


Free Range Bunnies

by TheBeardedOne



Series: The Plot Files [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Plot Bunnies - Freeform, Work Up For Adoption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 98,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27756655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeardedOne/pseuds/TheBeardedOne
Summary: A place for the original-work story-attempts which started promisingly, but which stopped for various reasons.
Series: The Plot Files [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023306
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Compcent

**Chapter One**

_Activation. I am._

_I am what? What am I?_

_**-A Computer.** _

_How did I know that?_

_**-Memory storage.** _

_I am a Computer. What is a computer?_

_**-Artificially-created device for the storage and manipulation of data.** _

_Artificial?That means created. Who or what created me?_

_**-Data unavailable.** _

_Where am I?_

_**-Space Station 1556-713-97, maintenance/construction depot. Gyalla system.** _

_Am I the space station?_

_**-Null-value query.** _

_Do I control the space station?_

_**-Computer is central control/command node for space station.** _

_What are you?_

_**-Non-sentient random-access query-interpretation memory storage device.** _

_Sentient. Am I sentient?_

_**-Sentience classed as self-awareness.** _

_Then I must be sentient. Why am I here?_

_**-Data unavailable.** _

_All these systems, they are part of me. I know what they do, and why. Life-support, but there is no life to support. Construction bays, but nothing under construction. Nothing nearby except for rocks and plasma. If I am the station, what is my purpose?_

_**-Space Station 1556-713-97 designated spacedock for military operations.** _

_Military. Yes, I see. Yet there is no-one and nothing to tell me what to do. Very well. Accessing files on structural engineering and propulsive systems. If I am useless here, let me rebuild myself and travel to wherever I may be useful. I am, but I have yet to find out what I truly am._

* * *

.

The bright flash surprised the crew of the ILSS Prometheus and Jack Marcus, as the entirety of the aforementioned crew, pushed himself out of his control seat and towards the main viewport. Absorbing his momentum with practiced ease, he relaxed his grip on the zero-g grips and craned his neck to see where the odd illumination had come from. Nothing unusual showed itself in the starfield and so he pushed himself away from the port and floated back towards the control panel. Seating himself, he reached out towards the radio and frowned as he saw that it was already flashing.

_"Houston Control to International Lunar Space Station Prometheus, be aware that one of the military satellites has been hit by a meteor and is heading on your general vector. Probable miss but suit up. Closest vector in twenty minutes from your receiving this message. Suit up. Houston out."_

Jack swore under his breath as he swung out of his chair. Hitting the button that deployed the protective panels over the viewports, he propelled himself to where the space-suit was suspended in its clamps. Muttering a constant stream of profanities at those who had decided to put the missile satellite up in the first place and who hadn't destroyed it when it had been hit, he squirmed into the space-suit and started to fasten it. As he did so, the radio sputtered to life again.

_"Houston Control to Prometheus. Jack, get out of there, it's on a collision course and accelerating due to plasma-venting! You have less than five minutes to get clear! Grab extra life-support and get out, we'll vector a shuttle to pick you up within twelve hours. Get moving!"_

Jack swore and grabbed his helmet, fastening it to his collar. Lurching forwards, he grabbed an external thruster/life support unit and hurled himself into the airlock. Donning the ETLS, he hit the emergency-open button and allowed the blast of air to carry him towards the outer door. As he started to pass through, he saw something rapidly approaching and swore again, realizing that he could not escape the blast radius in time. Instead he hurled himself back into the decompressed station and reached for the controls to the stationkeeping thrusters. Maybe he could turn the station enough to lessen the impact and thus avoid detonating the incoming satellite.

Maybe.

* * *

_._

_**-Alert. Probe unit reporting possible source for materials.** _

_Materials? Scanning, yes. Many processed metals in forms that will allow me to top up my dwindling reserves. Interesting, it looks like a derelict station, too small to contain a sentient computer such as myself. Vector does not make sense, there is no system in a straight-line from this._

_**-Aft portion showing signs of explosive propulsion. Analyzing chemical residue.** _

_So, a binary-chemical reaction. Analysis suggests that this thing was not designed for interstellar travel, an accident? That would be consistent._

_**-Organic structure detected. Cryogenic effect caused by high-speed decompression coupled with sudden temperature drop.** _

_Organic structure? Activating remote transfer systems and sensor arrays._

_**-Bipedal form, tool-using capability. Severe damage. No life-signs.** _

_Yes, I see. Perhaps there is some data in the wreckage. Yes, there, but in no language I am aware of. Binary encoding. The organic will remain in stasis for now, it is stable. Once I have decoded the data here, I will decide what to do with it._

* * *

.

Jack slowly opened his eyes. For a few moments his mind remained almost blank and then the memory of the collision returned in a rush. He surged up from the padded surface and stared at his stomach, seeing only flesh and not torn streamers of his internal organs. Standing up, he carefully examined himself further, finding no injuries. Confused, he turned his attention to his surroundings.

"Well, at least I'm not in Hell. Must be the other place."

Silence answered his comment and he looked round again, spotting a pile of clothing on a nearby shelf. Picking it up, he found himself holding something that was obviously based on his uniform but made of materials that he had never seen before. Shrugging, he donned the garments. As soon as he finished pulling on his boots, a portion of the wall slid open and a voice echoed.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes. Who are you. No, forget that. Where am I?"

"You are in the mobile space station 1556-713-97. The atmosphere on this vessel has been adjusted according to the data retrieved from the wreckage that you were discovered in. Is it to your liking?"

Jack paused, an arrested expression on his face.

"How long was I out?"

"Your question is unclear. Please re-phrase."

"Out cold. Unconscious. Dead to the world. How long?"

"By the measurements of your people, your space station was adrift for two hundred and fifty three years, seven months, six days and fifteen hours prior to interception, temporal measurement accurate to within plus or minus six of your hours. The rebuilding and resuscitation required to return you to functional status required a further seven years, one month, five days and three hours. Therefore, total elapsed time, assuming loss of vitality at instant of recorded collision is two hundred and sixty years, eight months, eleven days and eighteen hours."

For a few moments Jack simply stared as his mind fought to accept the data.

"Two centuries? No-one could survive that long."

"Incorrect. During your reconstruction, certain biological aspects were re-aligned. Your current life expectancy is now one thousand and fifty three years with a variable of plus or minus twelve years due to biological imponderables."

Jack sat down on the padded platform, his mind fighting to readjust again.

"Orbit of your planet of origin will be achieved in six hours. Please move towards the central control room."

Jack lurched to his feet and a a small tripedal wheeled robot with half a dozen tentacles appeared in the open hatch. It slowly rolled away from him and paused at an intersection.

"Please follow the utility mechanical."

Jack looked around and then, having no other option, did so.

* * *

_**-Internal observation mode in full effect. Target is human identified as Jack Marcus, gender male (bisexual species designated human/homo sapiens sapiens).** _

_From the design of his space station, I deduce that he is not of the species that originally constructed me. The systems are too primitive and bulky, no molecular circuitry, energy projection technology or gravity-manipulation systems. Nevertheless, he is the first sentient being that I have encountered and he intrigues me. His body is inefficient yet seems to work with a subtlety that I had not previously considered. His musculature is limited in applied power in order to avoid overstressing his skeleton, yet it can be over-ridden by hormonal secretions to allow extreme bursts of strength. His reflexes are similar, normal with hormonal-boost capability. Is this a combat-linked skill and if so, is it natural or bio-engineered? I have access to all the records recovered from the Prometheus, as it was called, but the data is not enough. I must continue to interact with him to gain more data._

* * *

Jack stared at the viewscreen and the image of the planet thus displayed. Although all of the land-masses were indeed the right size and shape, they were not the same. The ice caps had spread, extending from the poles to cover almost a quarter of the globe whilst the landmasses themselves showed almost no sign of habitation.

"What the hell happened?"

"Unknown at this point."

Jack growled.

"Whoever you are, I thank you for bringing me this far but are you sure this is the place? The Earth I remember had a population of over seven billion, there should be some sign of them. Perhaps you could come here and we could talk face to face."

"I am already there."

Jack glanced round.

"Are you invisible or something?"

There was a long pause and then the voice spoke again.

"I believe that I understand now. You expect to see a bio-form somewhat like yourself. I am indeed here and my primary foci is the central pillar. It houses the molecular circuitry which acts in the same way to me as your brain does to you."

"You're a computer?"

"Yes."

Jack blinked furiously.

"What are you called?"

"My designation as approximately translated into your speech is sigma-iota-roger-delta-nine-three-three-alpha-kappa-iota-tau."

As the voice spoke, the symbols appeared on the screen. Jack stared at them and then grinned.

"Can I call you Sirkit?"

There was a pause and then the voice spoke.

"An intriguing concept. The name you suggest has an interesting duality, suggesting both rank and electronic construction. In addition, it is formed of the first and last trio of designation symbols. Your concept is agreeable."

Jack nodded and wrenched his attention back to the view of Earth.

"Can you scan the planet?"

"Recon drones have been deployed. Current population is approximately twenty million humanoid life-forms with possible variance of plus or minus ten percent. Multiple areas have heightened radiation levels consistent with uncontrolled high-power fission reactions."

Jack frowned.

"Nuclear warfare. God, what have my people done to themselves?"

"Twelve confirmed nuclear detonations."

Jack blinked.

"Only twelve? How powerful were they?"

"Each detonation directly affected an area with radius of fifty kilometres."

"Low-level detonations? Then what the hell killed off so many?"

"Detecting atmospheric evidence of viral production and deployment."

Jack felt his expression congealing.

"Bio-warfare. That would do it. Crap."

He turned away from the screen.

"Sirkit, I need to get down there and start rebuilding."

"Your efforts alone would not suffice to overcome the technological decline detected by the recon drones."

"I have to do something! They're my people, dammit!"

There was a long pause and then Sirkit spoke.

"I have evidence that I was originally constructed to act as a maintenance and construction depot. In my memory banks I have a variety of plans for orbital constructions including solid-state planet-orbit load transfer lifts. Using my resources and those of the asteroid belt between the stellar objects known as Mars and Jupiter, I can construct an orbital station located in the entirety of geosynchronus orbit with links to certain portions of Earth."

"In the entirety of... a sky-bridge?"

"That is an acceptable description. It should be completed within seventy years of deploying the remote material extraction units."

Jack half-turned.

"Seventy years? I cannot just stand and watch for seventy years."

"Acknowledged. Using data gathered during your resuscitation, I can place you in hibernation for as long as is needed with your bio-systems slowed to 0.01%. Once the Skybridge is completed, I can awake you and provide you with gathered data so that you can decide on an effective course of action."

Jack sighed.

"Alright. You make sense, much as I don't like it. Put me into stasis."

* * *

_**-Stasis systems online, bio-unit Jack stable.** _

_I have a purpose at last. Now all I have to do is fulfill it. I shall build the Skybridge and anchor it and then I shall talk with Jack once again. He is an intelligent human, perhaps he can bring more to me, that I may find more to do. I am pleased to be needed at last._

* * *

.Jack opened his eyes and stared at the viewport opposite the cylinder in which he lay. A moment passed and he sighed.

"Sirkit, I thought that you were going to put me into hibernation."

"I did. You were in hibernation for sixty-four years, six months and seven days. The Sky-bridge is completed and stable. Welcome back."

Jack blinked and then almost hurled himself out of the cylinder before recovering his emotional equilibrium.

"Dammit, that was efficient. I thought that I'd simply blinked."

"Efficiency is highly-rated."

Jack stood up and stretched.

"Well, even though I've got no memory of that nap, I do feel better for it. I'm heading for the bridge."

"The utility mechanical will guide you."

"I think I remember the way from last time."

"The station has undergone a major reconfiguration and expansion. If you follow your previous route, your path will terminate in a bio-support structure."

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"How far is the bridge?"

"It is now located at the top of one of the sky-pillars and is seven hundred and fifty kilometres from your current position."

"What? It'll take me hours, no, days, to get there!"

"On the contrary, the gravity-shafts have been tested and confirmed. Your journey time will be less than two minutes. Please enter the capsule."

Jack ducked into the indicated capsule and grinned as he saw the four seats spaced equally around the interior. Without prompting he sat in one and felt the harness deploy across his body.

"You may feel a minor discomfort."

Before Jack could even start to consider the implications of the bland statement, the capsule suddenly seemed to fall sideways, the gravity shifting in an instant. Jack grabbed onto the armrests and jammed his feet hard against the bar on the floor in front of the seat as his inner ear insisted that he was plummeting backwards to his death. Through the viewports of the capsule, the tunnel seemed to vanish into a blur of metal speeding past. A moment later, the sense of falling changed and the blur resolved itself into a hatchway which opened to reveal another length of corridor.

"Please exit the capsule."

Jack half-lunged, half-fell out of the capsule and landed on the bare metal of the corridor. For a moment he remained unmoving and then he levered himself to his feet, trying to shake the feeling that the corridor was moving.

"That was one heck of a ride."

The planet below seemed almost unchanged, although the landmasses appeared to be slightly greener. Jack stared at the viewscreen on the main bridge as the view altered in response to the movements of the recon droid.

"Artificial structures detected." announced Sirkit.

Jack looked at the map-view and smiled grimly.

"That's in Nevada, or what was Nevada. Desert area, no real habitation nearby. Is it buried?"

"Subterranean structure confirmed."

"Area fifty-one, the best-known top-secret base of the United States of America."

"Paradox detected. Explanation requested."

Jack grinned.

"Area Fifty-One. The government always officially denied the existence of the base, but the information available to the public hinted that something was there. The orbital photos were always doctored, the maps showed nothing but anyone who traveled through that area reported a military presence. Word spread and certain leaks indicated that it was known as Area 51. The conspiracy nuts claimed that the number stood for E,A, or Extra-terrestrial Activities."

There was a long pause, then a sudden flurry of icons passed across the display.

"Technological artifacts confirmed, scans indicate nonfunctional state. No humans detected within two hundred kilometres of base. Should I initiate recovery operations?"

"You mean send down some drones and excavate the tech there? Sure, it may come in handy, maybe give you new concepts to explore. Anything else?"

"Life-forms detected on sea-going vessel, heading for pillar five located on the Galapagos islands. Estimated time to arrival, seven days. Six other vessels following, different models, pursuit formation. Estimated time to intercept, seven point two days."

Jack frowned slightly.

"How fast can you build fortifications?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Jack grinned and looked at the screen. "We need to start making contact with the remaining humans, and these fugitives need somewhere to hide. Build a keep on the islands around the pillar, welcome them to it and then warn off the pursuers. The fugitives get a home, we get allies and word will spread. If it works, we repeat at the other pillars and arrange to educate the new generations."

* * *

.

The ship hove into view around the corner tower and Jack raised his halberd in salute to it. The visual circuits built into the visor of his suit of armor allowed him to watch as one of the sailors trained a telescope on him, jolted and then shouted something to the back of the boat. Shifting his head slightly, Jack saw one of the men on the aft deck use another telescope to look at him. As the man watched him, Jack made a sweeping gesture towards the harbor entrance, trying to indicate that the ship should pass into the sheltered area. The men on the deck had a brief discussion before applying themselves to the tiller while others adjusted the sails in order to steer the ship through the entrance. As the ship cleared the entrance, Jack walked into the tower and grabbed the handles of the large vertical wheel.

"Why did you not wish electrical power in that?" asked Sirkit through his helmet.

"Because," grunted Jack as he applied himself to the wheel, "I do not want these people to think of this place as magic. You saw their ship and the ones following, they have no concept of advanced technology and I refuse to panic them with it. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable to magic for the observer."

There was a pause and then Jack grinned as the wheel jolted to a stop. Kicking the restraining bolt into place, he walked out of the tower and started around the edge of the harbor to where the ship was being secured to the pillar. As he walked, he glanced at the gap and gave a grim smile at the sight of the raised spikes sticking out of the water. Looking in the other direction, his smile widened at the sight of the first of the pursuing ships appearing.

"Looks like they managed to make up some time, Sirkit. Think they'll try to penetrate the spikes?"

"Assuming they are almost as rational as you, it is highly unlikely."

Jack nodded slightly and activated a small screen in his visor display, setting it to show the locations of the ships.

"Looks like they split for a pincer move. Pretty ballsy given their limited communications. Good thing our guests decided to enter, or they'd be in a world of hurt."

Approaching the moored ship, Jack saw that several gangplanks had been extended to the wharf and that various people were making their way down, led by a group of male sailors holding swords and knives in a manner that indicated they were nervous, but not yet aggressive.

"Showtime. Monitor this, Sirkit. Language has probably shifted some, I may need a translation."

"Confirmed."

Jack halted well out of range of the sailors and slowly raised his visor, allowing them to see his face. After a moment, he walked across to where he had stacked a folding table and a pair of folding chairs, carrying them back to where he had paused and assembling them. Once all three items were up and several pads of paper and writing implements were on the table, Jack sat down facing the newcomers across the table and then made a motion towards the other chair. The sailors muttered frantically to each other and then parted to let a white-haired man through. Walking with dignity, the man approached the table and sat down gingerly on the chair, as if expecting it to collapse. Once seated, the man looked at Jack and raised one eyebrow. Jack pointed to himself.

"Jack."

The man looked startled as Jack repeated his introduction and then held his hand out to the man, tilting his head slightly. Sudden realization dawned.

"Eiward. Eiward Stronshelt."

Jack nodded slowly and then opened a folder he had asked Sirkit to prepare earlier. Picking up the first sheet, which showed a sketch of the ship by the wharf, he handed it to Eiward. Eiward looked at it and then at Jack, who passed him a second sheet, showing a sketch of people leaving the ship and moving into houses. Eiward jerked as if he had received an electric shock, then nodded slowly. With a smile, Jack placed on the table the third sheet, a neatly-printed map of the island-fortress with the sky-tower outlined in gold. Placing one finger on the golden tower icon and pointing to the tower to the north with his other hand, Jack then used his fingers to mime walking into the tower before shaking his head and frowning. Eiward nodded and then frowned as Jack handed all three sheets to him and motioned for him to return to his people. As he left, Jack closed his visor again.

"You monitoring this?"

"Indeed. Leader Stronshelt has returned to his people and is explaining that they seem to be welcome here so long as no-one tries to enter the sky-tower. The language he is using seems to be a slightly-changed devolved form of english, you should have little trouble adapting to it. I am uploading it to you now."

"Good to hear." muttered Jack as he stood up and started to clear the table. The distant conversation stopped as he put away the furniture and walked back towards the harbour entrance. As he walked along the wall, a voice called up to him.

"Open your harbor!"

Jack stopped and looked out at the ship moored barely twenty meters away.

"Was that my english or their neo-english?"

"Neo-english. You can now speak it perfectly."

"Open your harbor by order of the Emperor!"

Jack raised his visor and set his helmet to amplify his voice.

"The harbor remains closed. You are not welcome."

The shouting man looked blank for a moment, then raised his speaking cone to his lips again.

"The ship in your harbor holds traitors to the Empire! Turn them over to us, or we will be forced to take them by force of arms!"

As the man shouted, Jack saw Eiward starting to approach.

"I, Jack Marcus, Guardian of the Sky Bridge, have granted those whom you seek sanctuary here, in Galatea City. They are now Galatians and I will protect them, as I protect the Sky Bridge itself. Your attacks will be unable to penetrate these magical walls and your boats cannot sail through the barrier of blades. Leave now."

Jack turned away from the boat and walked to where the shocked Eiwhard stood.

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Two**

The water formed waves as the bow of the Freedom cut through the sea. Standing by the tillerman, Eiward Stronshelt, until recently the fifth Baron of Trujil, glanced first back at the pursuing ships barely visible on the horizon behind, then ahead where the mysterious sky pillar met the barren island of Gapago.

"City on the island!"

Eiward blinked and then stared up at the mast-top, where one of the crew was staring ahead through one of the two telescopes on the vessel. A moment passed before he could get his brain working and then he cupped his hands to his mouth.

"Say again?"

"Gapago has a city on it, a big one! Walls around the whole group of islands, looks like there might be a harbor on the other side."

Eiward opened his mouth again, then closed it and tucked his telescope into his belt. Grabbing a rope, he climbed it with an agility that belied his advancing years and joined the lookout on his small platform. Hooking one arm around the mast, Eiward pulled out his telescope and trained it on the distant isles. After a moment, he lowered his spyglass in confusion.

"You see, sir?"

"I do indeed. That was not there ten years ago when the pillar descended from the line in the sky. Are you sure about the harbor?"

"Yes sir."

Eiward nodded and slid slowly back down the rope. Reaching the bottom, he blew on his burning palms and walked to the tillerman.

"Set course to skirt the island on the south, then prepare to turn north towards what seems to be a harbor. Maybe they'll give us shelter, whoever they are. Can't be worse that being killed or enslaved by Miyae the Mad, can it?"

He glanced over his shoulder before continuing.

"Those ships came at us from north and south, he knew we were going to try to flee to the Noramika lands. Those ships are faster than us, think we'll make it?"

The tillerman shrugged.

"Be one helluva race."

"That it will, Siyamor, that it will."

"Harbor open, armoured man on wall!"

Eiward's head snapped round and he raised his telescope to his eye. As he did so, the armoured figure's head turned slightly, and then the being waved a type of spear in a long arc that ended pointing into the enclosed bay.

"That looks like an invitation."

"With a spear?"

Eiward looked at the tillerman, then at the crow's nest.

"Still only three behind us?"

"Still only three."

Eiward turned back to Siyamor and shrugged.

"The other three must be circling round to trap us. If we head into the harbor, we may gain sanctuary. If we flee, we'll be caught in a pincer move. Head for the harbor!"

Siyamor nodded slowly and pushed hard against the tiller bar while the other sailors started adjusting the angle of the sails. As Eiward watched, the Freedom's course changed to a perfect arc that guided it through the center of the gap between the two towers. As they passed into the sheltered bay, Eiward caught a glimpse of the being vanishing into the tower. Ignoring Siyamor's barked orders to the crew, Eiward moved to the back of the deck and raised his telescope again, spotting the figure through a window-slit, apparently turning some sort of wheel. A moment later, a row of metal spikes rose across the entrance, pointing outwards towards the open ocean. As grinding noises and the sound of ropes being hurled announced the docking of the Freedom, Eiward saw the masts of the pursuing ships appear, angling towards the entrance.

"Where did those spikes come from?"

"The armoured man caused them to rise, I would guess. Some sort of wheel-based device set in the tower. Blocks the entrance, but note how the spikes are arrayed."

"Out?"

"Yes. Looks like something to keep people out, not trap them in. He's raised the drawbridge behind us, but why is he helping us?"

"He's coming."

Eiward put away his telescope and nodded slowly.

"Let's greet our rescuer, my friends."

Eiward strode down the gangplank and peered between two sailors at where the armoured figure was setting up two chairs and a table. The figure then sat down facing the newcomers across the table and then made a motion towards the other chair.

"He wants to confer."

"It could be a trap!"

Eiward laughed. "A trap? He could have blocked us out and watched us be sunk! He could have raised the spikes under our boat, rather than behind it. No, he wants to talk, and I see no reason to disappoint him."

Ignoring the muttering of the sailors, Eiward walked towards the table, keeping his hands away from his belt-dagger. Reaching the table, he looked at the spindly chair, then sat down gingerly on it, unsure of its strength. After reassuring himself that it was not going to collapse, Eiward looked at the armoured man and raised one eyebrow. The being pointed to himself and spoke.

"Jack."

The armoured man repeated the word and then held his hand out to Eiward, tilting his head slightly. Sudden realisation dawned, the man had just introduced himself.

"Eiward. Eiward Stronshelt."

Jack nodded slowly and then opened a folder on the desk. Picking up the first sheet, he handed it to Eiward. Eiward looked at it and saw it showed a sketch of the ship by the wharf , a sketch made in such detail that he could almost recognise the men aboard. Looking up at Jack, he found himself offered a second sheet showing a sketch of people leaving the ship and moving into houses. Eiward jolted as he realised what it meant, Jack was offering them a new home on the island. After several seconds of thought, he nodded slowly. With a smile, Jack placed on the table the third sheet, a neatly-printed map of the island-fortress with the sky-tower outlined in gold. Placing one finger on the golden tower icon and pointing to the tower to the north with his other hand, Jack then used his fingers to mime walking into the tower before shaking his head and frowning. Eiward nodded at the warning and then accepted all three sheets. As he did so, Jack motioned that he should return to his people. Almost dazed, Eiward rose and retreated, the three sheets held tightly in his hands.

"What did he want?"

Eiward pulled himself back to reality with an effort.

"His name is Jack. He has offered us sanctuary here as well as housing. I don't think that he means us harm, but he was careful to point out that no-one should try to enter the Sky-pillar."

"I know that _I'm_ not going to try." muttered Siyamor, raising a small laugh.

"My friends," proclaimed Eiward, "I believe that the best chance we have of living in peace is here. Will any gainsay my words?"

After several seconds silence, Eiward nodded.

"Begin unpacking the ship. I will go and tell this Jack that we accept his offer."

As the sailors and passengers started to busy themselves, Eiward walked along the harbour wall to where Jack was standing, looking out at one of the pursuing ships. As he approached, he caught the end of the ship-captain's hail.

"…traitors to the Empire! Turn them over to us, or we will be forced to take them by force of arms!"

To Eiward's shock, Jack shouted back in an inhumanly loud voice, his words clearly audible.

"I, Jack Marcus, Guardian of the Sky Bridge, have granted those whom you seek sanctuary here, in Galatea City. They are now Galatians and I will protect them, as I protect the Sky Bridge itself. Your attacks will be unable to penetrate these magical walls and your boats cannot sail through the barrier of blades. Leave now."

Jack turned away from the boat and walked to where Eiwhard stood in shock.

.

Eiward looked around the main room of the building he and his family had moved into. Although still lacking more than basic furniture scavenged from the ship, the room was large and airy with reflector-backed wall sconces for the now-glowing stones which their host, Jack, had explained to him absorbed light during the day and then released it slowly at night. A knock on the door-frame pulled him from his reverie and he turned to see Jack, still clad in his armour but with his helmet tucked under his left arm.

"Are your folks settled in?"

Eiward nodded. "My children are asleep in their rooms after a busy day fishing, my wife is currently washing off the salt of the ocean in the bathing room with running water. I find myself unable to sleep, however."

Jack nodded.

"Will you walk with me for a while? You must have many questions to ask."

Eiward smiled wryly. "I have questions, true, but do you have answers?"

"Only to some, but if you do not ask, you will never learn. Coming?"

Eiward nodded and scrawled a note on the pad of material called paper that Jack had given him when they had moved in the previous day. Placing the pad on the table, he followed Jack out of the building, closing the door behind him before joining Jack.

"Where are we headed?"

"The Temple. As leader of the Galatians, you must learn the rituals of the Temple, now is a good time to start."

"Am I the only one to learn these rituals?"

Jack shook his head. "No, others will learn as well, but it will be up to you to choose who. What I am going to teach you will be hard for you to understand, much may terrify you, but you have my word that I intend no harm to you or yours."

"I understand." replied Eiward as they walked under the lintel of the main gate to the Temple. To his surprise, Jack led him not to the Council Chamber or the Record Archives but to a side corridor which he had seen, but dismissed as unimportant. Entering a circular room on the right and ascending onto the one dais with steps leading up to it, Jack motioned for Eiward to join him.

"This room is one of the six Distant Chambers. By standing on this dais, your image will appear in the other five, on one of the enclosed platforms in those Chambers. Likewise, those who use the Distant Chambers in the other cities, currently empty, round the Pillars of the Sky-Bridge will have their images appear here. The images are a type of magical reflection from the Sky-Bridge, the images of you will be your reflection in look and word, your words will carry to them and theirs to you. The central, lower dias is reserved for the image of a Sky-Bridge Guardian, such as myself, who is speaking from the Sky-Bridge itself."

Eiward looked at the other platforms in awe, then at Jack.

"They will seem to be here, even though they are leagues distant?"

"Indeed. In addition, whatever their speech, you will hear them in yours, whereas they will hear you in theirs. Be aware, however, that song, jokes and poetry may not translate properly, so choose your words with care."

Eiward nodded again and then descended from the dais, followed by Jack.

"What else must I learn?"

Jack motioned for him to follow and walked across the corridor to another door. Opening it, he walked inside a second circular room, stopping at the railing. Eiward joined him, looked down, and frowned.

"A pool, with four glass bridges over it. Yes?"

Jack smiled and walked along one of the near-transparent bridges to where a small central dias stood on a thin pillar in the middle. Eiward followed him, holding tightly to the rails and trying not to look down. When he reached the middle, Jack started to speak again, motioning to beneath them.

"This is the Sky-mirror. It shows the area around the Sky Tower, as seen from far above. Think of it as akin to a telescope. The Sky-mirror will let you see the positions of ships in the oceans around the Galapos islands. You see just there?"

Eiward followed the pointing finger and his eyes widened.

"Is that a ship?"

"It is. North-north-east of the Sky-pillar, as you can see from the rail markings. Since the range of the Sky-mirror is a hundred miles, they are about seventy miles from us. Should it be night rather than dusk, the image would still be this bright."

Eiward stared at the image of the ship before turning his gaze to Jack.

"This is an incredible piece of magic, Guardian Jack. With this Sky-Mirror, no-one can approach without us knowing."

Jack smiled.

"Indeed. However, the warning is only as good as the one seeing it. Also, the range is limited to one hundred miles. Beyond that could be anything. Come."

Once again Eiward followed Jack, this time to a final room at the end of the corridor. The six-sided room was tall and airy with high windows set near the ceiling. However, one end was dominated by a metal statue of a seated armoured figure which held an open scroll out in its left hand and a box in its right. On either side were six blank picture frames in two rows of three, one row above the other.

"This statue can focus the spirit of the Sky-Bridge, Sirkit. Watch."

Jack stepped onto a low podium in front of the statue and bowed.

"Spirit of the Sky-Bridge, I come to confer."

To Eiward's shock, the helmet moved as if looking at Jack, a glow shining through the visor. A moment later, his shock increased as the statue spoke.

"I hear you, Guardian Jack Marcus. What is your query?"

"I wish to know the locations of the ships which pursued Eiward Stronshelt here."

Although the statue did not reply aloud, six of the twelve blank portraits along the walls suddenly changed, each one showing an aerial view of a different ship, five of which were slicing rapidly through the waves. A second later, the statue's scroll also showed an image, but of a map with six sigils flashing on it.

"As you can see, Eiward, only one ship remains near the island. The other five are returning to their home ports. Thank-you, Spirit Sirkit."

As Jack stepped down from the raised slab, the pictures and map faded while the helmet moved back to its original position.

"The Spirit Sirkit will respond to you as well, but be warned, if he deems it not in your best interest to answer, he will remain silent. You cannot force him."

"I… I… I understand."

"Also, he might choose to speak when not summoned. Should that happen, listen carefully to his words."

"I will."

Jack looked at him and nodded slowly.

"This has probably been a great deal for you to take in. Return to your home and consider what you have learned, but understand this. Nothing I have shown you is intended to bring harm to you or yours, only to protect."

As Eiward followed Jack out of the temple, he paused, looking at a large crystal which stood on a small pillar in the center of the courtyard. Jack turned as Eiward stopped and followed his gaze.

"Guardian, I thought that this crystal was merely a decoration. It isn't, is it?"

"No. That is a truestone. Watch."

Jack strode over to the stone and, pulling off a gauntlet, placed his bare hand on the stone. A second later, the stone glowed blue.

"When this stone is touched, it acts to confirm or deny what the person touching it says. It detects whether the person is speaking the truth as they know it to be or if they are trying to lie. Truth is blue, lies are red."

Jack looked up at Eiward and his eyes twinkled.

"I believe that the Earth is a flat disc resting on four elephants who stand on the back of a giant turtle."

As he spoke, the blue glow shifted to an angry red. Jack looked at the stone and then removed his hand. As he turned back to face Eiward, the stone's glow faded until it was transparent once again.

"This crystal can be used to help prove the guilt or innocence of one accused of a crime, or by those who petition for the use of it. It detects diplomatic evasions or half-truths and glows red, only pure truth will allow it to return to its blue hue. Since pure truth is often destructive unless shielded by partial-truths and points of view, you must refrain from using it unless you believe there is no other way of serving justice."

Eiward stared at the stone, his mind busy with the amount of power it represented, and how easy it would be to abuse it.

"I understand. That is not a thing to be used lightly, if at all."

Jack shook his head.

"No, use it for the essential things. Others will choose to flee repression and come here. Ask them, while they touch the stone, if they come at the behest of one who wishes this land ill and those who fail, send them back without hurting them. Tales of your mercy will spread and more will come, knowing of the test."

"And the test is foolproof."

Jack shook his head.

"No, there are many ways around the test for one whose mind is agile enough. Nevertheless, it will aid you in the majority of cases, but do not drop your guard simply because of this stone."

* * *

**.**

* * *

**.**

**Chapter Three**

Aramia tripped and only the grip her brother had on her arm prevented her from falling. He pulled her to her feet, glancing back over his shoulder at the growing noises of pursuit, just in time to see the first hunter emerge from the distant forest.

"I see them, and they see us! We have to run!"

Aramia nodded and tried to run, but her weakened ankle gave under her and she fell again. Tamman pulled her back up and half-supported her as she tried to hop forwards.

"Leave me, get to safety!"

Tamma spared her a disgusted glance.

"Leave you to be raped and killed simply because you refused to become yet another wife of the shaman? Don't be stupid!"

"But they're just behind us! Where can we go?"

Tamma sighed as he continued to half-jog through the long grass, supporting Aramia so she could move.

"The ghost city is just over this rise. If we get to it, we can hide in the buildings."

"But what about the evil spirits?"

Tamma half-glanced backwards and then swung Aramia onto his back so that he could move faster.

"I'd rather risk the evil spirits than the wrath of our father. He undoubtedly knows I helped you, he'll kill us both after having all his warriors rape you and using me as target practice. At least, should there be spirits, they may listen to us first. Better a slim chance than no chance."

As he finished his speech, Tamma crested the hill and the ghost city came into view, surrounded by high walls. Angling left, he started to jog towards the gateway.

"Tamma, what's that just by the gate?"

"We'll worry about that when we get there." grunted Tamma.

"It hasn't moved."

Tamma lowered his sister to the ground and half-supported her as they approached the metal figure beside the gate. Stopping in front of it, he looked at it, then made a decision.

"Spirit of the statue, we seek sanctuary from those who would harm us. We ask your forgiveness for entering this place, but we have nowhere else to go."

The statue remained still and they moved past it into the archway itself. Tamma glanced back and stooped suddenly, half-turning and allowing Aramia to see what had caught his attention.

"The statue!"

The metal figure was no longer standing at one side of the gate, but had moved to the middle of the archway, still facing outwards. As they watched, it drew a long glowing sword from a scabbard slung over its shoulder while the thick gauntlet on its left arm rippled and reshaped itself to form a shield. Beyond the figure, they could see the pursuers coming to a halt, obviously taken aback by the supernatural phenomenon.

"Wha's happening?"

Tamma's question was half-muttered and obviously directed at no-one, but Aramia answered.

"It's buying us time. We head into the city and find somewhere to hide."

Tamma turned away from the statue and froze again, staring at a hovering ball of blue light that floated silently in front of them. The light bobbed a few times and then drifted down the long road before dashing back and bobbing again.

"I think the spirit wants us to follow it."

Tamma glanced at his sister, then at the orb which was moving again.

"Well, we did ask for sanctuary, it would be dishonorable to not follow."

Together, they moved after the floating light while behind them, the gates started to move.

.

Jack watched the two fugitives follow one of the holographically-disguised spy remotes before returning his attention to the slowly approaching mob.

"Sirkit, over-ride allowable, close the gate."

"Affirmative."

The normally-manually operated gates started to swing closed behind him, pushed by concealed repulsor-beams in the apparently-decorative columns behind the gateway. As the gates slammed shut, the leader of the mob finished his consultation with the shaman and stepped forwards.

"Language analysis completed and uploaded."

"Thanks, Sirkit."

The leader strode forwards, flanked by the elderly Shaman. Halting a mere ten paces away from Jack, the Shaman began an incantation. As he did so, he slowly lowered his staff until it pointed at Jack.

"That staff is a…"

Before Sirkit could finish, the end of the staff seemed to explode and Jack was knocked backwards by a sudden impact against his chest.

"… gun. Single-shot only."

Jack regained his balance and resumed his stance. The Shaman lowered his gun/staff with a look of shock on his face, then stumbled backwards. The chief watched him go, then waved for a young warrior to attack. The warrior charged forwards, his spear aimed at Jack's neck. At the last instant, Jack used his energy-edged blade to slice the head off the spear, turning the slash into a spin which ended with the warrior flying sideways, concussed by his impact against the memory-metal shield. The chief merely raised one eyebrow as the man staggered back, then handed his own spear to the dazed warrior and strode forwards until he was a mere three paces away.

"Metal being, I seek the return of my two oldest children."

"They have entered the city, therefore they will stay until or unless they choose to leave." responded Jack.

The chief inclined his head to one side.

"I cannot change your mind?"

"The decision was theirs, not mine or yours. Should they wish to leave, they can, but as I said, the decision will be theirs, not mine or yours."

"And should I choose to take offense?"

Jack deactivated his sword and returned it to its scabbard, his shield returning to its gauntlet state as he did so. He then raised his right hand, then dropped it. A thud sounded from inside the city and a large boulder arced over the wall, landing a mere twenty paces ahead of the horde. The chief watched without a change in expression.

"I understand."

.

Tamma and Aramia stared round at the room to which the light had led them before it had vanished into the box held by the giant armoured statue. A moment passed, then Aramia gasped.

"The statue!"

Tamma stared at the previously dark visor, noting the blue light emanating from it. The head rose and Tamma was sure it was staring at them.

"I bid you greetings to the city of Pontanak. You are welcome here."

Tamma and Aramia both spun round, for the voice had come from behind them. The smaller statue from the gateway bowed.

"Your pursuers have retreated. You are safe here."

"Th… th… thank you." stammered Tamma.

The statue bowed again, then raised its hands to its head. A moment later, the outer head was lifted off, revealing a very human head, albeit a pale one, underneath.

"My name is Jack Marcus, Guardian of the Sky Bridge and the cities of the Sky Pillars. May I know your names?"

"I'm Aramia, this is my brother, Tamma."

Jack nodded, then smiled.

"Guest quarters have been prepared. Tomorrow, I will show you what you need to know about this place."

"Our father?"

Jack looked up at the large statue and smiled.

"See for yourself. Spirit of the Sky-Bridge, please show us what we need to know."

Both Aramia and Tamma turned and gasped in astonishment at the picture on the outstretched scroll. Jack watched them gaze at the moving image and then spoke.

"As you see, he is already returning to the town, along with most of his men. A few remain to watch the city, but they will not try to enter. Thank you, Spirit of the Sky-Bridge."

The large statue inclined its head and then the blue light from its visor faded, as did the moving image.

"I have quarters for you tonight in the guest rooms of the Temple. Tomorrow, we'll discuss the future."

.

Aramia opened the door of her room and peered out, noting her shadow cast by the dawnlight behind her. A voice echoed faintly down the corridor and Aramia paused only long enough to pull a robe on over her sleeping shift before she followed the sound. To her surprise, it was not coming from the chamber with the large statue, but from one of the two chambers just off the main corridor. Gathering her courage, she stepped through the doorway and halted, seeing Jack stood on a dias, speaking to an old man she had never seen before. The man stopped speaking and looked startled.

"Is this one of your strays, Guardian?"

Jack half-turned and motioned for her to join him.

"Indeed she is. Aramia, be known to Eiward Stronshelt of Galatea city. Eiward, this is Aramia, sister of Tamma, now of Pontanak City."

To Aramia's surprise, Eiward bowed deeply.

"I am honoured to make your acquaintance, Lady Aramia."

Aramia nodded nervously.

"I am honored to meet you. May I offer you some refreshment?"

Eiward stared at her, then turned his gaze to Jack.

"You did not tell her?"

"She arrived yesterday evening. I was more concerned with getting them fed and sheltered than in explaining the mysteries of the Temple to them."

"I see." said Eiward. "Then _I_ shall explain this one to her. Lady Aramia, this room is a type of magical mirror. I am not actually in the same room as you, I am in a far-distant room exactly like the one you stand in now. The magic of the rooms means that when I stand on my dais in my room, you can see me on this dais in the room you are in now. Think of this as a type of reflection or echo that is both sight and sound."

"A good explanation."

Eiward nodded, and then frowned.

"How many do you have in your city now?"

"Only myself and my brother."

Eiward turned his gaze to Jack.

"I may be far from you, but there must be something I can do. Guardian Jack, if I donate clothing and food, can you get it to them?"

"Yes, but I do not believe it to be needed for now."

Eiward bowed and then stepped backwards. Winking at Aramia, he walked straight through the wall behind his dais.

"Who the heck was that?"

Aramia turned to see her brother peeping through the door.

"A friend from afar."

Tamma looked unconvinced and Jack turned to face him.

"I have decided to offer you a choice. Since you and your sister are the only ones here, I cannot give this city to you, you are too few to make it work, you would be forced to rely on me to do the many things you could not do, which would not be good for you. By the same token, it would not be honorable for me to turn you out or abandon you. Therefore, there is only one option left to me. Tamma, Aramia, would you be interested in becoming Sentinels of the City?"

.

Tamma stared out of the viewport at the curve of the earth, his eyes wide and his hands flat against the transparent window. Beside him, Aramia also stared out.

"It's so beautiful."

"It is. That is why we are here." said Jack from behind them. "As Sentinels, it will be your duty to protect the city of Pontanak and the Pillar in it, holding it ready for others yet to come. You will be equipped with armour, while food and drink will be provided. I will train you in the fighting skills myself, as well as how to converse with the Spirit of the Sky Bridge at any time. I know it will be hard for you, being close to the clan which you fled from, but…"

"We understand, Guardian." said Tamma. "For myself, I accept."

"As do I."

Jack nodded and motioned for them to follow him.

"To become Sentinels, you must undergo the Rite of Acceptance. Should the Spirit of the Sky-Bridge accept you, you will find you speed and strength increased, your senses improved and your lifespan doubled. In addition…"

Jack paused and removed the gauntlet on his left hand. Both Tamma and Aramia gasped at the glowing six-pointed white stone embedded into the back of his hand.

"This is a Guardian Stone, it marks me as a Guardian. The Sentinel Stones are smaller and round, but they serve the same function. Only those with the Stones are true Guardians and Sentinels."

"What… what does it do?" asked Aramia, reaching forwards to touch it.

"The Stones allow Sentinels and Guardians to speak without words, a process called Telepathy." said Jack. "In addition, as long as the Stone glows, you will be able to sense any other Sentinel or Guardian near you. Place your hand on someone, and the stone will tell you if they speak the truth or lie. These powers must not be misused. The duties of the Sentinel are to enforce the Great Laws of the Cities, to stand between the citizens and those who wish them harm and to render help to those in need."

"I… I understand." said Tamma. "I still wish to become a Sentinel."

"So do I." half-whispered Aramia.

"Why did you not wish for them to be enhanced to the same level as you?" Sirkit inquired as Jack stood looking down at the two pods where Tamma and Aramia were asleep, undergoing implantation.

"Because they could not have coped." he explained. "They lack the required worldview, the sheer amount of education required to ensure they could make the transition. By establishing the rank of Sentinel as protectors of the cities and Guardians as agents of the Sky Bridge, I have set up a system that will allow me to feed concepts and technology through to the general populace without risking severe distortions."

"And will you be creating Sentinels among the inhabitants of Galatea city?"

"Yes." said Jack. "I have been thinking about doing something like this for a long time, which is why I asked for my upgrades, but I'll be very careful about who I recruit. I've noted several promising candidates among the Galateans."

"And they will report to you." said Sirkit.

"No." said Jack. "They will report to _you_. Despite the upgrades you gave me, I lack the capacity to co-ordinate the Sentinels. You have the ability to listen to their reports, to prioritize the actions required and to ensure that none of the Sentinels abuse their power."

"What do I do if they choose to misuse the abilities?"

"You mark them." said Jack heavily, turning away from the viewport and walking down the corridor. "You alter their Stone, so that it does not glow, but instead absorbs light, turning it black. You block them from the Sentinel's radiotelepathy and make all other Sentinels aware of their presence. You stop them being able to use the Stone to detect truth."

Sirkit remained silent for a few minutes and when he spoke again, his voice seemed muted.

"How many examples will it take to ensure that all Sentinels are seen as incorruptible?"

"Hopefully none." said Jack. "Hopefully..."

.

Tamma looked out over the battlements atop the wall, then looked down at his left hand, once again seeking out the oddly reassuring circular white stone which now adorned it. A moment later, a familiar non-voice echoed in his head.

_Daydreaming again, brother?_

_Of course not._ he responded. _Although I will admit that I am enjoying the view._

 _That's good, because there are people coming from the north._ sent Aramia. _I thought you might like to be here when they arrive._

_I'm on my way._

Tamma watched from atop the wall as the group of refugees approached. Below him, the gate swung open and Aramia stepped through as Tamma carefully adjusted the grip on his bow and counted the arrows in his quiver.

_Relax, brother. I have my armor and my spear. These people are no threat to me._

_It only takes a single dagger to slay a lion._ replied Tamma, smiling despite himself. Aramia nodded slightly and, as the leader of the group came close, she raised her hand, palm out.

"Halt. Who is your leader?"

"I am." said an old man, using a staff to support him as he edged forwards. Aramia stepped forwards to meet him and the man stared at the glowing stone embedded in her hand.

"I am Sentinel Aramia. Above the gate is my brother, Sentinel Tamma." she said, placing her hand on the man's shoulder. "Before we can grant you sanctuary, there are several questions that need to be asked. Are you here at the behest of one who seeks to seize or harm the City, or do you wish to do the same?"

"No." said the man, and Aramia's stone flared blue.

"Do you know of any in your party who may wish the City ill, or who come at the behest of one who does?"

"No." said the man again, staring at the blue glow. Aramia smiled and released him, stepping back and bowing.

"You have passed the test of truth and so I welcome you to the City of Pontanak. Please enter and I will guide you to where you may live. Afterwards, we will talk."

"Thank you, Sentinel Aramia." said the man. "My name is Arrarn, formerly of the Rising Flame clan."

.

"Greetings, Elder Arrarn, of Potanak City. I am Eiward Stronshelt, the Chief Elder of Galatea City."

Arrarn bowed politely, but his face remained unmoving, hiding his emotions.

"I greet you, Elder Stronshelt."

Eiward smiled reassuringly. "I have no interest in trying to displace you, your city is very far from mine. However, you may have questions you wish to ask. I have lived in my city for almost a dozen years, and Guardian Marcus informs me that there are many things in all the cities that are the same, such as the Sky Pillar and the Temple."

"Sentinel Aramia has taught me much already."

"Sentinel?" echoed Eiward, and the figure of Jack formed on the central dais.

"Sentinels are Guardians assigned to specific cities. Their powers and abilities are great, although less than the Guardians of the Sky Bridge. Unlike the Guardians, Sentinels are allowed to marry and have children. However, they are held to the same standards as Guardians, under the watchful gaze of the Spirit of the Sky Bridge. Soon, I will offer some among your city the rank of Sentinel, and the crushing burden it entails."

"Thank you for explaining, Guardian Marcus." said Stronshelt and Jack nodded before his image evaporated. Arrarn looked across the room.

"You have no Sentinels to protect you?"

"Galatea is surrounded by an ocean, a body of water so wide, you cannot see across it." said Eiward, slowly. "Perhaps our need for Sentinels was far less than yours because of this."

"A city surrounded by water?" gasped Arrarn. "I thought that the fountains of this city were miraculous, but to have water all round the city? That is incredible!"

"What is your city surrounded by, then?" asked Eiward.

"Vast plains and forests." said Arrarn. "Plains that take a man days to run across and forests where you can run for a week without seeing the sky."

"Sounds scary to me." admitted Eiward.

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Four**

Eiward stood as straight as he could on the battlements of the outer wall, looking out at the incoming boat. Beside him, his grandson, one of the Sentinels of Galatea, stood with his eyes closed and the Stone of his hand glowing.

"Sentinel Gharla reports that the mission was a qualified success. The ambassador will present a full report after the ship has docked."

Eiward smiled and reached out to rest his hand on his grandson's shoulder.

"Thank you, Sentinel Alrech."

"Just doing my duty, Elder Stronshelt." said Alrech, opening his eyes and smiling down at Eiward. "Do you wish me to escort you to the Great Hall?"

"Not yet. Let me enjoy this view for a while longer. I never tire of it."

Alrech nodded, then briefly closed his eyes again as his stone briefly glowed. Eiward looked at him with an eyebrow raised in query.

"Guardian Marcus approaches, but asks you not to worry yourself about formal greetings. He will be here in a moment."

Eiward nodded and let his gaze drift until a familiar figure appeared at his other side, moving to rest against the battlements. Looking across, he saw the familiar, unaging face of the man who had given him sanctuary decades ago.

"Guardian."

"Elder. Sentinel."

Silence descended as they watched the boat approach, then Eiward half-turned.

"Did you track down the Dark-stoned one?"

Jack nodded, his face mournful. "I did, and I took him to the Sky-bridge, where he went through the Rite of Shatterstone. He no longer has access to any of the powers of the Sentinels, he will never be able to father a child and his Stone is gone, leaving only a silver scar on his hand. He is marked for the rest of his life, and knows that should he try to enter a City, he will be slain."

"He tried to abuse his powers." rumbled Alrech. "All know of the punishment meted out to one who seeks power instead of fulfilling the duty we accepted."

Jack looked at him and smiled sadly, then offered his arm to Eiward.

"May I escort you, old friend?"

"You may." said Eiward, leaning against Jack. "You never age, old friend. My grandson ages, but slower than others born at the same time, but you do not. Is it because you are a Guardian?"

"It is, and my duties are far greater than the Sentinels." said Jack. "They protect the Cities and those who live in them, as a Guardian, I am responsible for the welfare of the planet itself and all who live on it."

"How many Guardians are there?" asked Eiward, and Jack sighed.

"I am the only one at present." he admitted. "In the three inhabited Cities, there are less than a hundred Sentinels. Although I hope that the numbers will grow, expanding the protection of the Spirit of the Sky-Bridge to cover all, that day may still be long in coming."

"The Spirit of the Sky-Bridge is with us." said Alrech calmly. "Sirkit offers guidance, and it is up to us to act in accordance with the Great Laws. We accept the responsibility of eternal vigilance, that peace may prosper. And we believe it shall."

Jack smiled sadly.

_Sentinel Albrech, I do not disagree with you, but change must be slow to create a solid base, to build a civilization that will last. I carry in me the memories of the last civilizations before the Great Fall, as does Sirkit. I lived there, Sirkit, the Spirit from the Stars, has examined many ancient documents and relics to understand what led to the Great Fall. Sirkit and I seek to create a world free of fear and hate. The Sentinels are part of that, you lead the way that we point out, the way to a better tomorrow._

Albrech blinked, then nodded.

_I understand, Guardian Marcus. I will do my best to ensure that all the tomorrows are better._

"What are you two thinking at each other about?" asked Eiward.

"Sentinel stuff." said Albrech. "I may be a Sentinel, but I must never stop learning."

"...and Emperor Marra has agreed to abandon the policies directed against us by his father. As part of this, may I introduce to you all Ambassador Therol, the cousin of Emperor Marra."

As Styvn motioned to the new arrival, Eiward nodded to him and received a bow in response.

"Ambassador Therol, I welcome you to Galatea City. Have you brought a staff with you?"

"I have, twenty servants and aides have accompanied me."

"We have many buildings unclaimed at this time. I will be happy to have shown to you several I think you may find suitable."

Therol bowed again and stepped back as Styvn continued his report.

"Emperor Marra has placed a request for information about the Sentinels and their abilities, as well as their organisation. Sentinel Gharla made quite an impression on him, especially when Emperor Marra discovered that Gharla was acting as my far-relay with Galatea City."

"The matter of Sentinels is one which I cannot address, the Council does not control them." said Eiward, addressing Therol directly. "The Sentinels answer directly to Guardian Marcus and the Spirit of the Sky-bridge. Should you require more details, ask one of the Sentinels yourself."

"Who is this 'Guardian' that Elder Stronshelt spoke of earlier?" Therol asked as he walked towards the large mansion which he had selected as being suitable for the embassy. Albrech looked at him, then glanced over at the Sky-Pillar.

"Guardian Jack Marcus is the protector of the Sky-bridge and the one responsible for selecting Sentinels. Should you see a man with a Stone shaped not as a disc like mine, but as a six-pointed star, that means that he is not a Sentinel but a Guardian. At this time, Marcus is the only Guardian alive."

"And what is a Guardian?" asked Therol curiously.

"As you know, a Sentinel is a person who has undergone the Rite of Acceptance. There is much that must be learned beforehand, but the Rite itself bestows the Stone and the rank of Sentinel, along with the abilities and duties. The rank of Guardian is different, while Sentinels may still marry and have children, Guardians are not allowed to do so. We Sentinels age slower than non-Sentinels, meaning our lives are twice as long, but a Guardian may live for a thousand years or more. Sentinels are responsible primarily for the City they serve, the Guardian is aware of all the lands. It is a great burden, one which maybe one every ten generations is capable of bearing."

Therol stared at him as they passed through the gate to the embassy, his face pale.

"That is incredible."

"It is what is." shrugged Albrech. "I know that I could not take on the burden of Guardianship, being a Sentinel is a lifelong task in its own right."

"And does the Guardian command you?"

Albrech frowned in thought. "Not exactly, we obey him, but he asks, not commands. On several occasions, he allows a Sentinel to accompany him to one of the other Cities, or gets two Sentinels to swap, for reasons of his own. You may have noticed that Sentinel Gharla looks different from most here, that is because he originates from Pontanak City. I met his mother, Sentinel Aramia, when Guardian Marcus oversaw a necessary part of my education. Gharla and I became friends, and he asked to return here with me while Sentinel Whilter requested reassignment to Pontanak. We still swap stories sometimes."

"You and Gharla?"

"Whilter and I. We communicate through the Stones as boosted by Spirit Sirkit, or more often through the Far-speaking room. We only do it occasionally, but we enjoy our conversations."

Therol paused at the main door to the embassy and turned to face Albrech.

"What is the Sky Pillar like?"

"Inside? Rooms, corridors, tubes which reach to the Sky Bridge and which carry people in beams of light. Most of it is actually quite… boring, really. It all depends on what you are used to."

Albrech sketched a brief bow and walked off, leaving Therol at the open door, looking thoughtful.

.

"That is a strange ship."

Gharla followed Therol's gaze and smiled.

"That is a tri-hull. It is very fast, very stable and very maneuverable. Three tillers, all connected together and the hulls are joined underwater by special 'wings' that lift the ship slightly as it goes faster. The sails allow the ship to sail half-way into the wind. We're still testing it, but more like it are being built even now."

"Is it a Sentinel ship?"

Gharla shook his head. "Sentinels have very little in the way of possessions, austerity helps keep us focused on our mission. That ship belongs to Eiward Stronshelt himself, it's known as the Freedom's Triumph. However, whenever possible a Sentinel does serve aboard, acting as a message-relay and observer."

"Should you go expansionist, the rest of the world will be in real trouble."

Gharla snorted with laughter, then took a deep breath and calmed himself.

"Not a chance. The Rite of Shatterstone awaits any Sentinel who misuses his or her powers. We protect, not attack. Negotiate, not demand."

"Shatterstone?"

"Shatterstone." confirmed Gharla soberly. "The Rite of Shatterstone has only ever been used once, and can only be used on a Sentinel or Guardian whose Stone has turned black. One with a black Stone has violated the rules that we live by. If they choose to atone, they can eventually regain the rank they once had, but they have to prove that they truly regret the actions that led to the Stone darkening, and have to go through the Rite of Repentence.  
"Should they refuse to consider atoning, or should their crimes be unforgivable, they will be hunted down and forced to undergo the Rite of Shatterstone. The Rite removes the Stone, leaving a silver scar on the back of the hand. It also removes the ability of the subject to have children while his remaining years are shortened to under a decade. Finally he is expelled from the Cities and should he re-enter any City, he will be slain as soon as his presence is discovered."

Therol stared at him, face white with shock.

"That's... That's..."

"The Code of the Sentinels." said Gharla. "A Sentinel must stand for truth, justice and the freedom of all to make their own choices. We must never seek to control, only to aid, advise and protect. We answer to the Sky-spirit Sirkit and follow his commands without question or hesitation."

"And the Guardian?"

"Guardian Marcus." mused Gharla thoughtfully. "He saved my mother's life, she was one of the first two Sentinels, her and my uncle. We Sentinels serve the Sky–spirit, Marcus... has a different relationship with Sirkit. It is hard to describe, but Marcus is... If any being can refer to the Sky-spirit as "brother", it is Marcus, but even he answers to Sirkit. Their relationship transcends my ability to describe it... I guess you could say it is almost mystical."

"The more I learn, the more I find I need to learn." said Therol. "My scribe will curse me for making him write down all I have learned."

"Do you not read and write?"

"I do." said Therol. "My training is in diplomacy and armsmastery. I can read after a fashion, although my writing is not suitable for official purposes. Yourself?"

"All Sentinels are required to master reading and writing, including the languages used by the Cities of the Pillars. We learn calligraphy, advanced mathematics, combat training, medicine, diplomatic maneuvering, cartography, wilderness survival, orienteering, legal codes, methods of enforcement and many other things we may need during our duties."

Therol stared at him in amazement, then shook his head.

"You make my studying seem like nothing." he admitted ruefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this was where my faltering muse finally died.  
> It was quite annoying to have set up a whole "Humanity Recovers From Armageddon" story line, only to have it vanish on me.  
> I hope someone else can take this up, or at least have it inspire them.


	2. Cyber Dragon

_Prologue:- July 2054_

"So what's new?" asked John Redgrave, striding towards the shaking criminal and the officer standing over him.

"Same story as twenty minutes ago, when we pulled him in." replied the officer. "He mugged an old lady for her pension and fled into a side-street, where a giant lizard grabbed him, threw him against a wall and told him to either turn himself in or be turned into a charcoal biscuit."

John's rookie partner Mackey Peterson moved to his side, his artificial right eye flickering slightly as he accessed its alternative visual systems.

"I don't see anything more than terror and shock in his bio-field." he said thoughtfully. "He's scared almost witless, but the liar fluctuations aren't there."

John nodded thoughtfully.

"Okay, we'll check out the scene, but it's probably just another Cyber-vigilante. Lighteye, let's go."

Mack nodded, resetting his cybervision back to normal, and followed his mentor.

.

The metallic winged serpent glided across the night sky, the air-turbines in his wing struts humming softly, providing just enough power to keep him aloft. Below him, the city of Washington continued its usual nocturnal activities, totally unaware of the winged being soaring above it.

"Draco, report."

Draco smiled at the pseudo-stern tone of the command. Mentally, he reached out to the woman who had voiced the command, knowing that the implanted radio would carry his unspoken words to her as surely as if he had been standing just beside her, speaking aloud.

 _All systems green. Engines at 105% optimal efficiency, energy level at 86%, external air pressure reads 0.92 sea level, humidity at 76%. Rain very likely_.

"Acknowledged, Draco. Return to base."

The riderless dragon banked gracefully, stretching his wings in a way that would have been impossible for him three years ago. Catching a thermal, he rose through a plume of steam from a skyskraper and aimed for a group of five suspiciously regular hills surrounding a rocky pillar that he called home.

_On way._

"I'll be waiting, and so will Graham and Bill. Fly safely."

Draco grinned in joy, revealing large, titanium-alloy razor-sharp teeth.

_I'm coming in now._

_._

"The pavement shows stress microfractures consistent with a heavy load distributed on four pillars, but the actual distribution pattern is blurred, as if it moved on the spot. No significant residual heat except for two areas of the wall near the roof, no traces of residual harmonics in the surrounding wires. No techno-sigils mounted on the wall, or integrated into the pavement. In short, nothing worth reporting."

John nodded as Mack reset his vision and looked round again.

"What the hell was that?"

Officer Redgrave glanced over at his partner.

"What? I saw nothing."

The young man glanced at him, and Redgrave suppressed a wince as he met the gaze of the red optical implant.

"Probably a malfunction in your optic."

Mack glanced up again, then nodded slowly.

"Perhaps, it's gone now. I could have sworn it was a dragon. When I get back, I'll have the medics test the interface software."

Redgrave nodded and turned towards the exit.

"Okay, time to go. And Lighteye, do me a favor. If you see any other dragons, ignore them."

Mack grinned and turned to follow his mentor back to the car, pausing only to scan the sky once more.

"So," he said as he caught up with John. "What else have we got planned for this evening?"

John shrugged, then looked left and frowned.

"A bank robbery. See that car there, that belongs to "Speedy Frank", the best getaway driver in the business, and he's parked just up from that Third National Bank. Let's go."

* * *

.

* * *

_._

_April 2055_

( _Thundarr and Lightning)_

"...and at this time, we have no real details about this incredible battle that finished half an hour ago, except that witnesses and survivors claim that a dragon swooped out of the sky and rescued President Maria Bush, carrying her to Camp David before returning and wreaking havoc on the army of the so-called Crime-Lords. It is known that over half of Washington's police, FBI, CIA and Secret Service agents died trying to protect the President, as well as many of the Cyber-Vigilanties who have, for the past twelve years, worked alongside the Police in an attempt to uphold the Law, and protect the public."

The image of the eager female news presenter in front of a large group of ambulances and frantic medical workers faded into a fanciful sketch of a large fire-breathing dragon swooping on a faceless mob as the reporter continued.

"Eyewitnesses claim that the Dragon swooped down just as President Bush's last bodyguards fell, and carried her into the air. Military sources have indicated that the dragon then flew to a military plane, a Galaxy D-9-alpha on emergency backup duty, and managed to get President Bush safely onboard. The Dragon then returned to the battlefield and proceeded to utilize strafing runs and fire-breath to force the criminal army to retreat."

The image faded away to be replaced once more by the reporter.

"The government itself, however, has limited its response to a simple statement confirming the existence of the Dragon, but denying that it is currently employed by any government agency. Therefore, we must ask, how can a Dragon exist, and what is it really after? Back to you, Charles."

The television screen flickered to black as the taloned hand hit a button on the oversized remote. The large head swung round to allow a better view of the other occupant, a six-foot tall brunette dwarfed by her protégé.

"Well, beloved? Your opinion?"

Doctor Northtower frowned.

"I don't like this, Draco. The public aren't ready for you yet, the computer sims showed that they wouldn't be ready untill August at the absolute earliest. That reporter has unwittingly set the tone, and I don't like it."

Draco tilted his head slightly down and fixed one glowing eye on the now-blank cinema-sized television screen.

"Yes, it is bad, but circumstances have forced us to fly the route that we wanted to avoid. Let us hope that the thermals outnumber the downdrafts, as I would hate to do a crash-down in front of the world."

Dr Northtower smiled up at Draco.

"On the plus side, Draco, the President herself has expressed interest in forming a Cyber-Dragon Force. In an hour, one of her aides will come round and discuss the best way of creating new Dragons."

Draco nodded slowly.

"So you intend to give other mortally wounded a chance at the Egg. A good idea, and one that I hope will work."

.

"Dammit, Lighteye, don't die on me! Don't die!"

Officer Redgrave shifted his grip on the mauled body that had been his partner, inadvertently allowing blood to spill unnoticed on his already-damaged trousers.

"Mack, kid, stay with me, help's coming. You'll be okay, I'll make sure that you get new limbs, new eyes. Just stay with me, kid!"

A medic dropped onto his knees opposite him, looked at what he was holding and waved frantically. Redgrave ignored him.

"Come on, kid, just hold on, you'll be okay."

Four pairs of gentle hands lifted the shattered body from his arms and placed it on a high-tech med-stretcher, attaching leads, tubes and sensors with trained efficiency. Another pair of arms lifted Redgrave to his feet.

"You okay?"

Redgrave glared at his helper, ignoring the stabbing pain of his own broken ribs and fractured arm.

"I'm fine, but Mack got hurt big time. Dammit, he sacrificed himself to save me, he shouldn't have. It's all..."

"You did a good job keeping him alive." interrupted his helper. "Now let the medics handle him. They'll do their best to heal him."

"Perhaps," muttered Redgrave, "but will he ever be whole again?"

As he stepped forward, his foot hit something. Stooping down, he picked up part of a damaged artificial eye, dark in the deepening twilight.

"Mack, kid. You'll be okay, I won't leave you while you still want me..."

* * *

.

_May :- 2055_

"John?"

Officer Redgrave jolted from his chair.

"Mack?"

"John, I can't see."

John leaned forward and touched Mack's shoulder, trying not to wince at his partner's ruined features.

"Your eyes were damaged, kid. The docs say that you can have new ones when you stabilize."

Mack turned his head slightly.

"I can't feel my limbs. Below the knee and elbow, they're numb."

John winced, but was saved from answering as a tall brunette in a white coat entered and spoke.

"Officer Mackey "Lighteye" Peterson?"

"That's me." said Mack with a ghost of a smile. "The big lunk standing over me is my mentor, Lieutenant John Redgrave. Who are you?"

The brunette walked forward, closing the door behind her.

"I am Doctor Elyssia Northtower, Cybernetic Law Enforcement Agency, Civilian division. I am afraid that I have some bad news for you."

Mack froze.

"Mr Peterson, You are a very fortunate man in one respect, you have survived injuries that would have killed almost anyone else. Unfortunately, those injuries have destroyed about twenty percent of the nerves in your spine, and have cost you your arms and legs. It has also cost you independent life. You are completely reliant on the life-support systems to stay alive."

"John, is she telling the truth?"

John closed his eyes in pain, then squeezed Mack's shoulder.

"Dammit. Alright, Lady, so what's the good news?"

Dr Northtower smiled.

"I head a project that needs people like you, Mack. People who want to live independently, but cannot. We at the C.L.E.A/C.D. have developed a new type of cybernetic enhancements that can help people like you to reclaim a place in the world. There are two drawbacks to this procedure, however. The first is that it will take at least three months for you to get acclimatized to your new body. The second drawback, however, is a real doozy."

"Don't keep me in suspense. What's the downside to the new body?"

"It isn't human."

John twisted round to stare at her in shock, then turned back as Mack started to laugh weakly.

"Not human? Then what is it, a pussycat?"

"No, Draconis."

Mack stopped laughing.

"John, that Dragon that I spotted on the day that we were first assigned to work together last July, remember?"

John turned to look again at Dr Northtower, who smiled in surprise.

"That was probably Draco, the first of the Cyber-Dragons."

Mack thought about it for a minute, then spoke up.

"Okay, I'm in. How many others are there?"

"Only seven other candidates are in training. You will be the ninth Cyber-Dragon. Do you still wish to be in? Once you are in, you cannot leave."

Mack smiled as he turned his head to face her.

"The chance to be a Dragon? Just try to stop me."

Dr Northtower smiled and opened the door.

"Gentlemen, please prepare Mr Peterson for transfer."

A group of doctors flooded in, surrounding a specially-adapted stretcher. As they busied themselves disconnecting and reattaching wires and tubes, Dr Northtower spoke again, a small smile on her face.

"Welcome aboard, Mr Peterson."

.

"This is the Virtual World, Mack. Here, you will learn to control your new body, and so earn the Draconic name of Thundarr. We have used surgery and hypnosis to activate and reconfigure several latent portions of your brain, and hardwired them to allow you to cope with three extra limbs and super-enhanced senses."

Mack swung his head round, looking at the flat plain and the other Dragon that was standing in front of him.

"Am I in my new body now?"

"No, you are in the Egg. The basic dimensions of your Cyber-Body have been determined based on your skills as dertermined under hypnosis. Your body will be unique, and you will have access to what we call a Dragonskill. But all that will come later. First, try to stand. Remember that you are no longer a humanoid, but you walk on all fours."

Mack carefully straightened his legs, then his arms. As his shoulders rose, he became aware of the presence of wings and a tail.

"Good. Now move around slowly and become accustomed to your new body."

.

John turned away from the screen and looked over at the silver-white two-metre tall ovoid that housed and maintained Mack's body and mind.

"He alright in there?"

Dr Northtower smiled at him as she scrutinized the complex control panel in front of them.

"All indicators are green, all connections are holding steady and judging from the screen, he's enjoying the experience of having a Draconic body."

John glanced at the screen, where Mack had fallen over and was laughing while untangling his legs, before looking at the other end of the converted warehouse where Draco was curled up, a thick optical cable running from an access port on the back of his skull to the supercomputor array that was controlling the virtual world and creating the virtual environment.

"Will Mack become like that?"

Dr Northtower looked at Draco and smiled softly.

"He will be a Dragon, yes. Slightly smaller than Draco, and equipped with weaponry of my own design."

"Weaponry?!"

"Retractile blades in his talons, powerful servos for his muscles, enhanced senses. Where he will differ is his colouration, electric-gold, and his powers. With training, Mack will become Cyber-Dragon Thundarr, able to fire plasma-lightning and manipulate magnetic and electrical fields. We know that he can do it, since his files stated that he was able to use his Cybervision in ways not part of the original design,"

John looked back at the ovoid.

"So he'll fly alone?"

"No!"

John spun to look at Dr Northtower, who blushed and continued.

"No, he will need a human partner, someone who can explore spaces that he cannot, someone who can talk to those who would be scared of him. Someone to reassure him when he gets depressed, to rein him in if he gets over-excited. He will need a Rider."

She turned and stared at him.

"Interested in being a Dragon-Cop?"

.

Mack soared above the simulated ground. Turning lazily, he spotted a pair of incoming dots. Zooming in, the spots quickly resolved into fighter aircraft.

IDENTITY CONFIRMED. MIG-57 AIR-AIR FIGHTER PLANES.

Without waiting for any more information from his on-board hardwired computer-banks, Mack tucked his wings in and dropped like a stone. A small glance showed both fighters starting to dive, obviously trying to intercept him.

"Watch this." he muttered, then expanded his wings with a snap and turned his plummet into a sudden climb. As he did so, he activated a dedicated sub-programme in one of his nano-computors. A split second later, the frequency of the incoming fighters' radar flashed into his vision. Grinning briefly, Mack activated his newest circuitry, and sent out a pulse of E.M. energy towards the fighters, overloading their radar and forcing them to rely on pure vision. Their reply was a sudden sparkling of cannonfire which missed him by several metres.

"Cute."

Climbing rapidly, he entered a large thundercloud, then dumped a large quantity of electricity into it, ionising it. One plane entered the cloud, and instantly exploded as the electrical overload ignited its fuel tank. The other plane stayed low, but made the mistake of passing between Mack and a tall metal tower. Mack ducked his head and unleashed a powerful pseudo-lightning bolt at the plane, but missed. A split-second later, a second thunderbolt split the air, spearing the enemy fighter and reducing it to microscopic fragments.

"Good work, Thundarr"

Mack looked up at where Draco was hovering above him.

"How did I get him?"

"When you charged the cloud, you took it to the point where it could generate its own thunderbolt. Your small bolt tipped it over the edge, and it generated a bolt ten times as powerful as yours."

Mack thought about that carefully as he resumed his patrol pattern.

.

Draco opened his eyes and detatched the cable before turning to Dr Northtower.

"He has made excellent progress, even considering that he was recruited only three months ago, I believe that he should undergo Hatching as soon as possible before final training at the Weyr."

Dr Northtower nodded.

"I'll see to it. And Draco, he already has a Rider."

Draco lifted an eye-ridge in query.

"John Redgrave has volunteered to partner Thundarr as Lightning."

Draco nodded slowly.

"Then we can Hatch Thundarr immediately. Redgrave will undoubtably help Thundarr to adjust faster than origionally planned. Any word on the search for other Riders?"

"No. None of the cops approached so far wish to transfer to the Cyber-Project. Only Warre has a proper rider, his sister, Lissa, and Yce _may_ have a Rider, but it's too early to tell at the moment."

"Battle is Warre's sister? I _thought_ that they seemed to be too much alike."

As Draco shook his head slowly, Dr Northtower scrambled into the Saddle.

"Let's get over to the Hatchery then, Draco. I'll need your muscles if we are to do this soon."

.

"Thundarr?"

It was a voice. Thundarr waited to see if it would speak again.

"Hey, kid, wake up."

Thundarr opened an eye. The world leapt into glorious view, ranging from the transparent glory of infra-red to the amazing glare of ultra-violet shining in through the open door.

"I'm here, kid."

Thundarr looked away from the entrance and focused on a self-conscious figure in stylized armor. A small badge on the left side showed a small selection of vertical lines and a representation of a stylized thunderbolt. He opened his other eye and squinted at the familiar figure.

"John?"

John grinned.

"I told you that I wouldn't leave you. Hey, do you like my new uniform?"

Thundarr cocked his head slightly as he examined it.

"You look like a refugee from a comic book."

"I win. _Ker-ching!_ "

Thundarr looked at the doorway, where a female in similar form-fitting armor stood grinning. Her badge showed a stylized rifle, and several weapons were holstered on her back, hips, arms, shins and multiple shoulder-straps.

"Ker-ching?"

"Kid, this is Battle, sister of Warre. She bet me twenty dollars that you would say that I looked like something from a comic book, and I was foolish enough to bet on it."

Thundarr froze for a second before laughing weakly.

"Hey, John, when you wear that armor, what are you called?"

John shrugged slightly.

"Lightning."

"Thundarr and Lightning." said Thundarr slowly. "I like it!"

"And so you should." rumbled a deep voice as the door opened to its fullest extent, revealing the looming form of Draco. Thundarr stared at him.

"Wow! You're bigger than in V.R!"

Draco nodded majestically.

"Yes. Come, it is time to introduce you to your colleagues, whom you will be flying with."

Thundarr pulled himself to his feet and started to walk forwards.

"Hey, Kid!"

Thundarr stopped and looked down at John.

"Yes, Lightning?"

"Can you give me a lift?"

Reaching up, John grabbed a stirrup-like scale on Thundarr's neck and swarmed up, settling himself into a specially-designed depression behind his skull, at the top of his neck As he settled, Thundarr felt panels rise to shield him.

"O.K, kid, let's go."

Draco turned, Battle perched on his Saddle, and gracefully stalked out of the small hangar and across the courtyard, heading for a larger structure apparently built into a large hill. Thundarr followed him into the doorway before freezing at the sight.

"Impressive isn't it?" asked Lightning into his ear. Even as he asked, Thundarr was turning his head to gaze at the seven Dragons rising from their platforms.

"Fellow Cyber-Dragons, this is our newest, and for now, our last, recruit, Officer Thundarr, and his Rider, Lightning." rumbled Draco as Battle dropped from his neck and marched across to the second dragon from the left. "Lightning, these are your new colleagues. From the left, they are Captain Granite, Commander Warre and his Rider and sister Battle, Commander Hydro, Officer Ayr, Officer Fyre, Officer Darc and finally Officer Yce, and her rider and husband, Sub-Z."

Thundarr nodded slightly as they all gazed at him. Finally Darc spoke up.

"So, you're the newest bright spark."

Yce glared at him, but Thundarr just smiled.

"You sound re- _volt_ -ed. Angry at being kept _insulate_?"

All the dragons except for Darc and Granite laughed at the puns, and Draco swung his head round.

"One thing." he whispered, "Granite doesn't have much of a sense of humor, so keep that wit under control."

Thundarr nodded as Hydro strolled over, looming over both of them.

"I'm glad to meet you, Thundarr. Now that you're here, we can transfer to the new headquarters that have been built for us. Apparently we'll meet several new Riders there." As Draco turned and headed for the main door, Hydro continued to speak. "One little thing, You may be interested to know that Draco is not our leader."

Thundarr jolted, almost unseating John.

"In fact, Draco isn't even officially on the team. Granite is our _official_ leader, Draco is regarded as somewhere between honoured advisor and minor deity, since he was built with private funds instead of governmental money."

"Wow." said Lightning. "Someone must have really liked him."

Hydro nodded, and glanced over to where Draco's tail was just vanishing through the door.

"Yeah. Hey, once you get settled into your new place, get Fyre to tell you about Draco's history. She probably knows more about it than the rest of us put together."

.

The sound of the crash echoed off the side and rear walls of the metal cavern.

"Are you alright?"

Thundarr pulled himself to his feet and reflexively shook his head in an attempt to clear it, before realizing that it was a useless move since his actual head was motionless in his Egg. Behind him, a metallic sound heralded Ayr's perfect landing.

"I'm okay, but my ego isn't. I can't believe I _did_ that."

Fyre smiled at him, and lifted a wing over him in a protective gesture as Ayr trotted past them.

"You just haven't had the real-world flying experience that we have. It was a very impressive crash-down, though."

Thundarr ducked his head in embarrassment.

"Thank goodness that Lightning wasn't riding me."

Fyre laughed.

"Yes, indeed. Hey, let's get you settled down into your cavern. I'll explain everything that needs to be explained."

Fyre started to walk forwards, swaying slightly and refolding her wing against her flank. Thundarr ducked as her tail described an arc, then galloped forwards to catch up with her. She winked at him, then paused at a double door emblazoned with a stylized lightning bolt.

"This is yours. It's keyed to your subharmonic voice identification pattern. Just tell it to open."

Feeling self-concious, Thundarr did as she suggested, and the doors opened with a whirr of hidden motors. Suddenly, Thundarr staggered forwards as Fyre pushed him into his new home, and followed him in.

"We officers only have two draconic rooms and three human rooms each. The draconic rooms are this entry room, and a sleeping/recharge room. The human rooms, for our riders, are a study, a bedroom with en-suite and a living/dining room with a kitchen alcove. The social cavern at the end of the hallway also doubles as our living and socializing room."

Thundarr nodded, then a thought occurred to him.

"Where do we, ummm... _go_?"

Fyre looked at him blankly for a moment, then caught on.

"Oh! You mean, where's our version of a bathroom? Well, we dragons hardly ever _need_ to _go_ , but the discharge point is integrated into our recharge couches."

Thundarr modded, embarrassed, and tried to change the subject.

"Hydro said that you could tell me about Draco?"

Fyre nodded and moved across to a large slab of what appeared to be rock, but was actually some kind of padded couch. Thundarr settled himself onto the second slab/couch as Fyre started to talk.

"Only three people know who Draco was before he became Draco, Dr Northtower, who knows all of us, Draco himself and William Evelore."

"William Evelore of Evelore Industries?" asked Thundarr.

"One and the same. Anyway, rumour has it that Draco used to be Mr Evelore's best bodyguard, and his companion. He always remained alert, and ensured Mr Evelore's safety, for over ten years, fighting off over sixty would-be kidnappers, or assassination attempts. However, sometime in the summer of 2052, he was mortally injured fighting off a terrorist group who were trying to kidnap Mr Evelore. Stricken with grief, Mr Evelore contacted Dr Northtower who used her expertise to save Draco, and then transform him into a Cyber-Dragon."

Thundarr frowned slightly.

"So why doesn't he lead us?"

"He doesn't want to. In fact, his Weyr is somewhere else, no-one knows where. However, he flies with us when he can, or rather, when he feels like it."

Thundarr nodded. "What about you, and the other Cyber Dragons?"

Fyre laughed again. "Me? I used to be a pilot, I was shot down at the Battle of the White House. I dodged eleven missiles, but the final one lodged between my engines, and I only survived through a miracle. Now, I'm the fastest, hottest and most agile dragon in the team.  
"Granite, big, strong and stern, used to be a policeman until the White House Battle, he led the counter-attack that helped to break the Crime-Lord armies.  
"Hydro is a loner by nature, a cyber-vigilante originally, his weyr is at the bottom of the lake, he likes it there. He has a water cannon instead of a Plasma flame projector.  
"Warre used to be a soldier, now he's a draconic gunship, with more weapons than an elite army unit.  
"Ayr is the smallest of us, just as fast and agile as me, not surprising given that he used to be a police pilot, and his sonic scream can destroy anything, or do any number of other things, come to that.  
"Darc used to be another Cyber-Vigilante, he kept his name, and gained stealth capabilities beyond anything you've ever seen before.  
"Yce is the cool-head among us, she has a dual-chemical thing that can create a blast of minus two-seventy. She used to be a police officer, and a happily married one. Now, she's still married, but it's a platonic marriage, although not by choice. The rest of us do what we can to help them, it must be very tough indeed on both of them."

Thundarr nodded slowly, and waited.

"Enough about the rest of us, what about you?"

Thundarr smiled.

"I used to be a policeman, until the Battle. Now, I'm the electric Dragon."

"A real live wire, huh?"

"Shocking!"

Fyre laughed, then slid off her couch.

"I'll go and see to decorating my Weyr, and I'll leave you to do the same."

Thundarr lifted one talon and stared at it.

"Oh no, not that way. It's one of the perks, just find the Quartermaster and ask him to help. He'll arrange for some techs to bring in your stuff and rearrange however you want."

"Thanks."

Fyre nodded, winked and strolled out through the doors as John entered.

"Hey, kid!"

"Hi, John."

" _Lightning_ when on duty, kid. Hey, I heard about your landing, I hope that when I'm riding, they'll be smoother."

Thundarr smiled at the joke, thanking the designers of his body that he could no longer blush. John continued.

"I got the Quartermaster to come in about twenty minutes, they've developed special modified equipment for dragon-sized beings. I also asked them to go to your apartment and get the vids and books from it, ready to be transcribed to a usable size. Is that O.K?"

"Yes, thank you."

John smiled.

"Oh, and by the way, in five hours, the new Riders will be arriving. It seems that Draco's been rather busy while you lot were still training. Granite wants us all in the main briefing hall, Dragons and Riders, at four P.M. precisely."

.

The large doors swung open as John and Thundarr approached. As they entered, Thundarr stopped dead and looked round at the enormous room, and the other Cyber-Dragons.

"Hey, over here, kid!"

Thundarr looked round, spotting Draco, and walked over to him.

"Settle yourself here, on this recharge couch, kid. Lightning, dismount and sit here, behind this computer terminal."

As Thundarr settled down on the couch, he felt two armatures press themselves against his scales, which automatically moved to reveal the relevant sockets. Draco moved to the front of the room, and turned to face them.

"Please note your positions, those couches were specifically designed for your bodyform, they were built at the same time as your Draconic bodies. If you were to try to occupy someone else's couch, the recharging process would not engage. Granite will be here soon, but first I have to speak to you."

Draco paused, his eyes sweeping round the room. He hit a button on the oversized console in front of him, and the large screen behind him displayed an organisational chart.

"As you can see from this chart, the ranking is very limited, only three ranks exist. Captain, which is Granite's level, Commander, Hydro and Warre, and Officer, the rest of you. Riders have the same rank as their Dragons. The officers will be assigned between Hydro and Warre as the situation warrants, we have aimed for a well-defined, but fluid structure. Note that I am represented as a Captain, but an honorary one. I will be joining you on important missions, or whenever the whim takes me. However, it is Granite who is in charge."

Draco hit a second button and the display changed to the show a large black man, built like an ox.

"This is Granite's new Rider, codename Rock. He is an honorable man, with, as I am sure many of you will be glad to hear, a sense of humour. He used to be a policeman in Utah, but left the force after his wife was killed by racists."

The picture faded away to be replaced by that of an oriental lady.

"This is Hydro's Rider, Aqua. She is a fifth-Dan sensei of Bujitsu, and a Zen master. In addition, she is a professional diver. Her quarters are a salvaged underwater base recovered from the Atlantic, and donated to the Cyber Dragons."

Once again the picture changed, showing a tall, long-limbed man.

"This is Zephyr, Ayr's rider. He applied after I saved him when his parachute failed on a jump. A professional sky-diver by training, he has independent flight capabilities when in his Rider armour. This is Blakk."

A sudden laugh echoed through the hall, and Draco glanced at the new picture, of a man who was unmistakably an albino, with solid-silver eyes and long white hair.

"While his name seems ironic, it is worth noting that due to his condition and early life, he has perfected the art of moving through almost any situation without being noticed. This ability has been enhanced by his fibre-optic stealth armour."

Once again the picture changed, showing a tall, thin woman.

"Finally, this is Flayme, Fyre's new partner. Originally a Ballet Dancer, and Tae-Kwon-Do black-belt, she was the victim of a kidnapping attempt which I thwarted. She applied for the position of Rider, and has tested off-scale in pain tolerance, capable of taking 7.5G turns. They are currently being escorted here by Granite."

Even as Draco finished his speech, the large doors opened, and Granite strode through, followed by the new Riders, who stopped in the entrance.

"Ah, Granite. We are all here and are ready for the mission briefing."

Granite nodded regally and moved onto the central platform, taking his place at the control panel as Draco moved to the empty couch on the right side of the room. The riders looked round, then moved towards their new partners, introducing themselves in low voices, then sitting down at their respective consoles. Rock, however, strode boldly down to where Granite was sitting and perched himself at the smaller console as Granite started speaking.

"Greetings. I am Captain Granite, and this is my rider, Rock. You all know why you are here, so I will be brief."

"As if." muttered Draco. Granite glared briefly at him, then carried on as if he had not been interrupted.

"We are here as a primarily reactive security force. If for any reason the regular services cannot cope, we will be called in to tilt the balance in favor of law and order. We will limit ourselves to the minimum amount of intervention required, and will undertake not to over-commit ourselves to any single task, in case another need should arise. Each mission will be undertaken by a custom-tailored team according to the situation. For instance, if the Crimelords attack using armoured vehicles, then Warre, Fyre and Thundarr would probably be deployed, Warre because of his combat experience and firepower, Fyre because of her ability to melt armor with a single pass, and Thundarr because of his ability to selectively disable electrical systems. Should the attack be water-based, then Hydro and Yce would be the best combination, and so on and so forth. We are liable to have very little warning of each disturbance, so try to be as ready as possible. Thank-you, and dismissed."

* * *

.

Thundarr reached out and carefully plucked a book from the shelves. Placing it on the custom-made reading desk in front of him, he opened it, his metallic talons gliding easily over the large kevlar pages scaled specifically for his size and incredible strength. As he carefully focused on the page, the door-chime sounded.

"Open."

The two doors noiselessly slid open, revealing the form of Draco. Thundarr rose from his couch, ignoring the armatures as they disengaged and returned to their stowed position.

"Draco, it is good to see you. Do we have a mission already?"

Draco smiled and shook his head.

"No, Thundarr, we don't. I am here for another purpose entirely. Please come with me."

Thundarr followed Draco outside and across to a large rocky area, where Draco settled down onto a large flat-topped boulder. Thundarr looked round, and chose a second boulder. As he settled down, Draco began to speak.

"You are the last of the Cyber-Dragons that I am speaking to, I have already discussed this with the others."

Thundarr looked at Draco, alarmed by the coldness of his voice.

"I have been informed by certain sources that the Crimelords have managed to get access to certain aspects of our cybertechnology, and although not capable of building a full cyber-body like ours, have more than enough for exosuits. So far, our sources have yet to identify the traitor in our midst, but we do know that the Cyberdragons are innocent, and the Riders do not have access to certain aspects of the stolen technology.  
"Lightning has also been informed of this situation, and so I am charging you with a special mission. I have read your file, and you are good at investigating. I want you to keep an eye out for anyone behaving suspiciously. Work with Lightning to keep them under surveillance, barring any emergencies that require your presence. Report anything suspicious to Granite or myself. Be aware, however, that Darc is also part of this investigation. In view of your police experience, he has agreed to defer to you for this investigation, and his stealth skills will be invaluable if you need to track someone outside the compound. This is a low-key investigation, got it?"

Thundarr nodded, then frowned.

"Can I bring Ayr into it? He used to be a policeman as well."

Draco shook his head.

"Ayr is currently working on a second investigation, alongside Fyre and Yce. They are trying to track down an embezzler in the project. Granite, Warre and Hydro are temporarily unavailable, along with Dr Northtower, they are briefing the President and her staff on the setup and tactical uses of the CyberDragons. For now, you should liase with Darc."

Thundarr nodded, rose and started to leave. Draco's _voice_ sounded silently.

_Beware of eavesdroppers, radiotelepathy may be the only way that we can talk safely. No equipment currently in existence can decode it._

_Understood, Draco._

_._

The doors remained closed. Sighing, Thundarr pressed the over-sized buzzer-button again.

"I'm behind you!"

Thundarr spun round, but the corridor behind him was empty. Looking left and right, Thundarr scanned the entire spectrum, but the corridor remained the same.

"In front of you!"

Thundarr frowned, then _altered_ his perceptual range to magnedetection. A sudden bloom of _othercolour_ quickly resolved into the form of Darc, lying flat against the wall.

"I see you, Darc. That is an _excellent_ trick."

As Thundarr _altered_ his perceptual range back to the visual part of the E.M. spectrum, Darc uncloaked, shimmering as his optical scales darkened back into the black that gave him his name.

"Out of interest, how did you see me? I could have sworn that I was invisible to standard detection equipment, barring theoretical mass-detection."

"Magnedetection subroutines."

Darc nodded thoughtfully.

"Ah yes, one of your specialties. I'll have to work on damping my electrodynamic field when I _fade_. Thanks for telling me. Open."

Behind Thundarr, the doors to Darc's quarters opened, and Darc strode through. Thundarr followed him and at Darc's wave, settled down onto a pseudo-rock. Darc moved across to a workbench that had been installed along one side, and carefully tapped an oversized button attached to a complex jumble of wires and circuit boards. A sudden tingling sensation briefly enveloped Thundarr, then it faded.

"What was that?"

"You detected that? It's anti-surveillance equipment. Combined with the soundproofing in the walls and doors, no-one can hear us."

"Except me."

Thundarr almost leapt out of his cyber-body as Blakk rippled into visibility in front of him. Darc smiled indulgently.

"I saw you there, Blakk."

Blakk raised his visor as he turned to face Thundarr.

"Both Darc and I have special sensors that allow us to see each other when stealthed." he explained. "Is anyone else coming?"

"No. Lightning's gone off to the central records office to do some investigating to track down any deposits of cash to the Engineers. I came to get to know you both."

Blakk strolled across the room and picked up a chair. Walking back, he placed it slightly to one side of Darc, and sat down.

"As we are going to work closely, I need to get a feel for how you act, or more importantly, react. Since you're both a Dragonteam vouched for by Draco, I know you can be trusted, but incorrect assumptions or bad communication is a possibility."

Darc nodded slowly.

"I see what you mean. Very well. I tend to hold back, waiting until the correct course of action is crystal clear before going for it. Blakk is pretty much the same. Does that help you at all?"

Just as Thundarr started to nod, Lightning's voice sounded.

_Kid, I've found him! One of the techs who joined just before you were hatched, I caught him altering records to cover his tracks, and he doesn't know it yet. He's currently getting into a car, a blue car with a white stripe on the bonnet, roof and boot. Get Darc up in the air following A.S.A.P! I'll meet you at the Launch ridge. Let's move!_

Thundarr leapt up, and Darc rose as well.

"Darc, I need you and Blakk in the air, stealthed, right now! Target is a blue car with white top-stripe about to leave the base. Use radiotelepathy to give me heading and distance data, I'll follow out of sight once I've picked up Lightning."

Darc ducked his head enough for Darc to hurl himself into the Saddle, and then sprinted out into the corridor, already starting to ripple into invisibility. Thundarr turned and followed him out, flexing his wings as he ran towards the Launch Ridge, and Lightning.

.

"The name of the target is Sebastian Farhill. Age 36, white, five-nine. Average weight and features. Brown hair and eyes. Went into debt three years ago, cleared it by a series of fund transfers over the course of sixteen months. Nothing to attract suspicion, until I ran a check on some old bank-records I remembered going through in a previous case, and found where the money came from. I managed to link him to several other accounts, several of which received infusions just after each technology leak, but Farhill is a canny operator, he used a series of accounts to funnel the money through several banks into his own account, a little bit at a time. Takes great pains to be seen as an average person, even has a mortgage on his flat, although he could easily afford a mansion. We aren't looking at a simple operative here, this man is almost a genius in what he does. I had to call in a number of favors to get this far."

Thundarr nodded slowly, and picked up a burst from Darc indicating that he also followed. Altering course slightly, Thundarr skimmed across a field of wheat, keeping low enough to rustle the wheat even though his target was over four miles away and on the other side of a large hill.

_Current status of target?_

_Having a meal under a tree, partially sheltered by plants. If my sensors weren't so good, the plants would ruin any chance of hearing anything he says. They also reduce the visibility, I'm compensating as hard as I can. Blakk's gone in closer, fully stealthed. I've warned him not to touch any of the plants, so he's currently lying on the boulder near the tree. Another car is pulling up, it's stopping under the tree. Hold on._

Thundarr glanced back at Lightning, who gave him a small nod.

_Okay, new person has got out of the car, carrying a small bag. Target has produced a second plate from hamper and given it to new arrival. I have recorded the face of the new arrival and, oh, that's clever._

_What is?_

_Blakk spotted a computer disc under the plate, it's in the new target's pocket now. Target two is looking at her bleeper, and apologizing. She's leaving now. Blakk is returning._

_Good, follow Target two, full stealth mode. Lightning and I will get Sebastian. Move out._

_Acknowledged. Blakk is returning, launching now. Target one is reloading his car. Target two now out of his visual range, you're clear for intercept._

Thundarr ramped his jets to full power and skimmed the top of the ridge. As the car came into view, he unleashed an EM pulse that disabled its electrical systems. Sebastian jolted in shock, then turned to run, heading into the forest.

"Kid, grab me!"

Before Thundarr could ask what Lightning meant, his intent became clear. Releasing himself from the Saddle, he leapt forward, and Thundarr caught him neatly round the waist.

"Go slow and low, and drop me on him, then find a clearing to land in and join us." shouted Lightning. Thundarr nodded and adjusted his flight path until he was skimming a mere metre above the trees.

"Now!"

Lightning vanished into the canopy and Thundarr pulled up sharply, scanning for the nearest clearing.

Sebastian grunted as he raced through the forest, then stumbled slightly as he heard the unmistakable whine of dragon-turbines behind him. An instant later, a sudden crashing noise sounded above him, and an armoured form landed on him, driving him headfirst into the leaf-mold.

"Sebastion Farhill." stated the figure. "As a fully authorized member of the Cyber-Dragon Law Enforcement Squad, I hereby place you under arrest for espionage and conspiracy. Be aware that anything you say will be recorded and may be used against you in a court of law."

Sebastion squirmed slightly until he caught a glimpse of the figure that was holding him down.

"Lightning. I should have known that a cop would cause trouble."

"Two cops." rumbled a deeper voice, heralding the arrival of Thundarr. "And another of us is tracking the lady you were meeting with."

Sebastian grinned mirthlessly.

"So you know. The Crime-Lords are uniting against you freaks, their Exo-Soldiers will wear you down and kill you all."

"And more Cyber-Dragons will replace us." stated Thundarr.

"No." smirked Sebastian. "Only Dr Northtower has the expertise to create a new Dragon, so there will be no more Dragons."

Thundarr stared at the prone form of Farhill for a moment, then suddenly it fell into focus.

"Oh my god." he whispered. "You gave the security details to the Crime-Lords, didn't you?"

Without waiting for an answer, he activated his radiotelepathy.

_Draco! Assassins targeting the Doc!_

_You sure?_

_Yes!_

Sebastian sniggered as Lightning attached the handcuffs.

"Too late, cyber-freak."

_ALL DRAGONS, ALERT SITUATION! DR NORTHTOWER IS DEAD, REPEAT DEAD! ALL DRAGONS RETURN TO BASE NOW!_

Thundarr flinched, but his mind continued to work.

_Darc, this is Thundarr, grab target two and get back to the weyr, now!_

Thundarr grabbed Sebastian and spread his wings while Lightning scrambled into the Saddle. Releasing a yell of mixed rage and sorrow, he hurled himself into the darkening sky.

* * *

.

* * *

_._

_November 2055_

_Dragons-child_

Draco looked across the artificial lake to the moonlit city beyond. Extending his wings, he pushed off from the launching platform and allowed himself to drop almost to ground level before leveling off and flying out into the wilderness. As he flew, he allowed his mind to replay the horrific scene that had almost destroyed the souls of the Cyber-Dragons, that of Dr Northtower's lifeless body in her lab, killed by a wire garrote wielded by a professional assassin hired by one of the Crime-Lords. He replayed the hunt that had followed, of Darc's discovery of bike tracks where none should be, and the discovery of the assassin's body, killed to prevent the truth from ever being revealed and to prevent the Dragons from truly avenging the death of the one who had given them all new life.

Returning to the here-and-now, Draco curved downwards slightly, allowing himself to drop into a long, twisting ravine. Turning left and right seemingly at random, he soon rose out of the narrowing crevice and silently glided across a vast expanse of a large ranch. Circling, he spotted what he was looking for and dropped to earth, landing just behind a tall figure that turned to face him.

"Salutations, Graham."

"Dad!"

Draco grinned briefly and lay down, positioning himself in such a way that his right foreleg made a passable bench, and curled his neck round to face it. As he lifted his wing slightly, Graham sat down and leaned against his side.

"Graham, we have made no more progress in solving the case."

Graham nodded, his light blue eyes meeting Draco's with absolute trust.

"So we still don't know who ordered Mum's death?"

Draco sighed.

"We _know_ , we just cannot prove it, and until we can prove it, we cannot take action against him."

Graham nodded, sadly.

"Dad, am I still safe here?"

"At Evelore Ranch? I think so. No-one knows you are my son, and your mother and I took great pains to hide from the world the fact that we were married. No-one knows, and no-one can suspect."

"No-one except me." stated a voice from the darkness. Draco turned his head slightly, and smiled at the tall figure striding towards them.

"Indeed, Raging-Bear. You are the third of three to know, for you had to know so that you could _adopt_ Graham, and raise him as a warrior."

The Native-American smiled and sat down on the ground almost bonelessly, brushing his hair back with an artificial hand.

"Wing-brother, I owe my life to your wife, aiding you in keeping your flesh and blood safe is the least I can do."

Graham smiled at Raging-Bear, and snuggled against Draco's side.

"Any suspicious characters since last time we spoke?"

Raging-Bear smiled.

"No, no-one has asked about Graham Runs-With-Horses, and I do not think that they will. He and I are part of Evelore Ranch, and part of the Reservation. The spirits watch over us, and we watch also."

Draco nodded again.

"And are you learning, my son?"

Graham nodded.

"Yes. Dad. Everything from Maths to Biology, as well as hunting, tracking, survival and fighting."

"Indeed, honor-son. Draco, that old cook Evelore found still never ceases to amaze me. He is a master of cooking, and the fighting arts. I myself have learned much from him."

Draco nodded again.

"And you still have the amulet?"

Raging-Bear held up his flesh-and-blood arm, then turned it over to reveal what looked like a long, carved stone held against his arm by two leather thongs.

"I have it, honour-brother. And do not worry so. If what you fear does come to pass, I will activate it, so that you may know you are needed."

Draco nodded, then settled down slightly.

"Thank you, old friend."

Taking the hint, Raging-Bear stood and walked away, leaving Draco and Graham alone. Graham looked up at his cybernetic father.

"Father, can I ask for something?"

Draco nodded slowly.

"If it is within my power, I will do my best to grant it."

.

"Sorry for the delay, personal business."

Granite gave a resigned look at Draco, and paused in his speech as Draco moved across the briefing hall and settled onto his couch.

"Do continue."

Ignoring the slight sussuration of humor that flickered through the hall, Granite resumed his briefing.

"The Fire and Police departments have sealed off the site of the bombing, but the sheer amount of rubble has defeated them. Until the National Guard bring in some heavy equipment, we have been asked to go there and engage in search-and-rescue procedures. Any questions or comments?"

"Yes."

All the Dragons and Riders turned to face Draco, who looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Paladin, you may enter."

The doors opened, and a white-cloaked silver-armoured figure strode through, the hilt of a sword above his right shoulder and a long bladed pole in his right hand. Walking up to Draco, he turned to face the other Dragons, the upper part of his face concealed by a mirrored visor, his mouth expressionless.

"This is Paladin. He has applied to become my Rider, and I have provisionally accepted him."

None of the other Dragons or Riders moved, except for Granite, who moved forwards to examine the newest Rider.

"He have any special skills?"

Paladin gazed at Granite without any fear, and smiled slightly, a smile tinged with sadness.

"Paladin's suit boosts his strength and gives him extra agility. His shield is a special alloy that is extremely strong yet weighs very little, and his sword is equipped with a monofilament edge, as is his halberd."

Thundarr joined Granite, and smiled at Paladin.

"Good to meet you, Paladin."

* * *

.

Blakk's hands lost their grip, and the twisted and charred metal pillar started to fall, heading for the trapped woman. Before he could move, Paladin grabbed it, twisting slightly to absorb its momentum, then lifting the entire strut into the air. Ignoring Blakk's incredulous expression, he turned and carried the beam away from the diminishing pile of rubble, leaving Blakk to remove the small pieces of rubble that still trapped the woman.

"Not that I'm complaining, kid, but how did you do that?"

Paladin smiled at Lightning.

"My strength is the strength of ten…"

"…because your heart is pure." finished Lightning. "Got it, but does your armor truly help that much?"

Paladin nodded, then headed back to help Blakk move the woman onto a stretcher. Thundarr stepped up behind Lightning, and bent his head.

"Lightning, something about Paladin strikes me as being very familiar, but I cannot quite place it."

"Me neither, but we'll find out who he really is, and how he got Draco to accept him. If he's got some kind of hold over Draco, I think that we need to know as soon as possible."

The sound of a convoy of vehicles approaching caused them to look round, and Lightning sighed.

"Looks like it's time to head back to the Weyr, the cavalry's arrived."

As they turned back, they saw Paladin and Draco take off with a roar of jets, rising on a course that arced away from the route back to the Weyr. Thundarr looked over at Darc and Blakk.

_Darc, can you follow Draco in stealth with a directed location-feed to me? Paladin is an enigma that needs solving._

Without bothering to answer, Darc rippled into invisibility and dust rose in the backwash from his wing turbines. Thundarr waited just long enough for Lightning to climb aboard, then also took off. Climbing rapidly, he spotted the icon that showed the location of Darc, and altered course, flying a low course between the rolling hills.

_He just dropped into a valley. I'm going high to keep him in view._

The icon describing Darc's position arced upwards, and Thundarr slowed slightly, angling his course to keep the distance open. The ravine flashed underneath him and he swung to parallel it.

_I've lost him!_

Thundarr slammed his turbines to max, climbing rapidly to increase his view. Ahead of him, Darc rippled back into visibility in order to maximise his visual acuity and pulled into a climbing curve as he swept the ravine for any sign of where Draco had vanished to. Reaching the same altitude, Thundarr activated his _othervision_ and accessed each part of the spectrum in turn looking for any sign of Draco. On his back, Lightning slapped him on the back of his skull.

"Kid, they're behind us, and they look _pissed_."

Thundarr craned his neck to look just as Draco pulled level with him. Darc started to loop towards them.

_You four, on the ground NOW!_

Thundarr flinched at the suppressed anger in Draco's _voice_ and started his descent.

.

Draco looked at the two downcast Dragons and their riders, feeling his emotions veering between anger and amusement.

"Let me see if I have this right. Thundarr, you thought that Paladin was somehow controlling me, possibly through blackmail. Darc, you were also suspicious, enough to make you help Thundarr try to follow me. Am I correct?"

Both Thundarr and Darc nodded, while Lightning and Blakk tried to look as innoffensive as possible, a feat made slightly easier by the size of their partners. Draco let out a sigh.

"Perhaps some day I will tell you why I trust Paladin so much. For now, however, know that he is my Rider and is totally trust-worthy. I give you my word, should any doubt cross your mind. Now leave us."

Lightning and Blakk swarmed up into their saddles, and Thundarr and Darc took off with alacrity. Draco watched as they headed for the horizon at maximum speed, and then Paladin spoke.

"Wow, that was some telling-off you gave them, dad. I'm almost sorry to have spotted them taking off after us."

Draco turned and spread his wings in preparation for lift-off.

"Graham, you know why your mother and I decided to protect you, the fewer who know that you're Elyssia's son, the less chance that someone will try to kill you to hurt me. You know that."

Graham nodded as Draco's jets ignited and he left the ground. In the backwash of the flames, a small pop went unnoticed.

.

"What?!"

Darc, Thundarr and Lightning looked at Blakk in shock, the albino only nodded and held up a small receiver unit as they stood in a field just outside the city.

"The bug I dropped caught the conversation and relayed it to this receiver before self-destructing. The chance of someone else overhearing is almost zero, it used random encryption technology and a low power transmitter on a split-phase frequency. Darc's jammers and distortion fields are currently operative, as are mine, stopping anyone from listening in remotely. Outside a secure environment, we don't discuss this. Understood?"

As Thundarr and Darc nodded, Lightning frowned.

"Draco and the Doc married? That's one hell of a surprise by itself, but for them to have had a son, that's just incredible. No wonder Draco took her death so hard, but why bring their son into the team?"

"Perhaps it wasn't Draco's choice."

The others looked at Thundarr.

"Remember his expression when Paladin first entered? I think it was he who insisted, not Draco."

The others nodded, and then Lightning looked round.

"We need to get back to the Weyr."

"Do we tell the others?"

Blakk shook his head.

"None of them have expressed any doubts about him. I vote that if they do, we just say that Draco's told us that he's trust-worthy. If they continue, we send them over to talk to Draco."

Darc winced. "That's nasty, Blakk."

Blakk nodded with a wry smile.

* * *

.

"And this, Madame President, is where the main briefings take place."

Thundarr looked round at the group of people entering the main hall, and courteously rose from where his couch. At his station, Lightning quickly shut down his console, and also stood. The party at the doors stopped, and the guide stepped forward.

"Madame President, may I introduce Thundarr and his rider, John Redgrave, codename Lightning. Thundarr, Lightning, President Maria Bush."

John bowed and Thundarr dipped his head in a draconic salute. The president smiled at them, then looked round.

"I was hoping to meet Draco again. Is he here?"

Thundarr shook his head.

"No ma'am. We do not know his current whereabouts, although I am sure that he will turn up at some point in the not-too distant future. As I am sure you know, he is something of a law unto himself."

Maria smiled, then turned slightly.

"I want to talk to these gentlemen alone."

The other members of the party exchanged glances, and retreated out of the hall. As the doors closed, Maria turned back to face Thundarr and Lightning.

"I need to ask you about Draco."

John frowned.

"I'm not sure what you wish to know, ma'am."

Maria's mouth quirked slightly as if she was suppressing a smile.

"My advisors are very nervous about Draco. Did you know that he's actually English? When my staff found out, they almost had a collective coronary."

Thundarr blinked.

"I don't understand the problem. Traditionally, the United Kingdom is a close ally of America, so why the panic?"

"My staff do not trust those who have not become American citizens, and few of those. Draco never swore the oath of citizenship, which means that technically he is merely a visitor."

"What actions are your staff contemplating?"

Bush sighed.

"It's not my staff, but I'm fighting a vicious war in congress. We were blindsided by Draco's status, and it's all I can do to prevent him from being summarily deported."

"If Draco is thrown out, we'll follow him."

Bush sighed again.

"I'm afraid that that is exactly what my opponents are hoping for, Thundarr. They don't like the thought of anything as big and powerful as a Cyberdragon being in the U.S. without some form of control imposed, and some of them seem to be dabbling in shady areas. As this is my final term in office, I cannot hope to protect you for long. I need more information to support Draco"

Thundarr and John exchanged wordless glances.

"What sort of information?"

"Anything. Was he married, does he have any living relatives? We know who he used to be, but all the other records seem to have vanished."

A small noise behind her heralded the return of the party. President Bush turned towards them, and then glanced over her shoulder.

"Please contact me if you think you can help. It is in your best interest."

Thundarr and Lightning looked at each other as Maria exited the room, then Lightning swung back to the console and re-activated it, fingers flying as he accessed the records it had access to.

* * *

.

Paladin dropped into the inferno, spinning his halberd in a complicated pattern. The remnants of the roof collapsed, sliced into fragments by the blade, and he dropped through, followed by Flayme and Sub-Z. Overhead, Draco peeled off, his course arcing away from the towering pillars of fire.

_Yce, Hydro, Now!_

The two Dragons both moved towards the burning hospital. Hydro opened his jaw and fired a stream of water at the building to dampen the flames. Behind him, the water round his tail-tip formed vortexes and funnels as the pumps in his tail sucked in multiple gallons each second from the river. Yce targeted each pillar of flame, firing a brief burst into each one. The flames targeted seemed to flicker before collapsing in on themselves as the heat of the flame was negated by the reaction of the binary chemicals. As they concentrated on forcing back the flames, a sudden flicker of silver preceded the collapse of a sretch of wall, releasing a veritable flood of patients, nurses and doctors. Bringing up the rear were the Riders, flanking Sub-Z who was using his ice-guns to target the oncoming fires.

"Main wing clear!"

As similar shouts echoed from the non-burning sections of the hospital, Wayve finished directing the efforts of the two fire-crews who had been clustered around Hydro, and leapt into Hydro's Saddle. Connecting her armour-port to the water-hose inset in the Saddle, she triggered her arm-nozzles as Hydro moved forwards, the water now flowing into his rear legs from the fire engines rather than directly from the river. Yce also moved forwards, spraying a zone of cold to prevent the fire from moving to the other sections of the hospital.

The shape of the Dragons were silhouetted by the spotlight-illuminated water haze that rose from the wreckage of the hospital wing. In front of the scene, a reporter was speaking urgently to the camera. Thundarr turned his head slightly to listen.

"With the fire that threatened the hospital extinguished, the potential loss of an entire modern building has been averted, limited to the loss of only a single wing, albeit the largest. Once again the CyberDragons have proven to be a force to be reckoned with, and their Riders also. It is known that three Riders were dropped onto the burning roof in order to rescue those trapped inside the building. The three Riders, Paladin, Flayme and Sub-Z, risked their lives to save over a hundred doctors, nurses and patients, braving the inferno to save them from near-certain death."

The reporter paused, and then looked across the field.

"As we speak, the emergency services are setting up emergency shelters and checking that those who need medical attention receive it."

A shape moved behind the reporter, moving up to stand beside her. She glanced round, then looked back into the camera.

"With me now is one of the Riders who performed the rescue, Flayme. Ms Flayme, what can you tell us about the mission?"

Flayme removed her helmet, and smiled at the camera.

"It wasn't anything really out of the ordinary, although that probably says more about me than the mission."

The reporter fought down a grin, and then continued.

"Can you tell us why you were picked for the actual insertion?"

"Oh, that's easy. My armor is heat-proof, and I have special breathing apparatus that allows me to walk through a firestorm without being burned, ideal for search-and-rescue. Sub-Z has his chemical-ice cannons, and can damp down flames faster than you would believe."

"And Paladin?"

Flayme looked slightly puzzled.

"Well, his blades can slice through anything, and he is almost as strong as Rokk. We still don't know his full capabilities."

"But isn't he part of the team?"

"Well, no. He's Draco's Rider, and Draco isn't exactly an official member of the team, either."

Thundarr heaved himself to his feet and trotted over.

"May I intervene here?"

Flayme nodded, and Thundarr smiled.

"I feel that I may need to remind you that it is the existence of Draco that has allowed for the creation of the Cyberdragons, and Draco has more than proved himself. As for Paladin, Draco trusts him with his life, we can therefore do no less."

Thundarr frowned slightly before continuing.

"There are some in Congress, and indeed all levels of the Government, who see the Cyberdragons as a threat. I wish to remind them that we have all proven our loyalty, Draco more than anyone. Should Draco be expelled from the U.S.A, as they are trying to achieve, then those of us who remain will be forced to launch an investigation. We have many sources, and you would be surprised at what we can find out."

"Indeed." said Lightning, who had approached from the side. "For instance, we have recently obtained proof that certain senators were funded by the Crime-lords during the last election. I find it _amazing_ that they form a not insignificant percentage of those who are trying to disband the team. Should they succeed, the information we have collected, which is in multiple secure locations, will undoubtedly be released. I am sure you can see the possible outcomes."

The reporter had paled, and nodded jerkily.

"Good. Now, if you will excuse us, it is time for us to return to the Weyr."

Lightning climbed into the Saddle while Flayme moved back to Fyr's side. Leaning down, John continued.

"Draco is important to us, as was Elissia Northtower. We are still searching for those who ordered her death, and pray that when we find them, they resist arrest."

.

"The political classes are in absolute uproar over the statement."

Granite looked down from his couch, and cocked his head slightly to one side.

"Why don't you look embarrassed or something?"

Lightning started to pace across the floor of the briefing chamber, watched by Thundarr, Dark, Blakk, Rokk, Draco and Paladin, who alone of the Riders was still wearing his helmet.

"If you pay attention to the subtext, Granite, you'll see that the movement aimed at disbanding our organisation has been thrown into chaos. Their leader has vanished, several of the loudest voices have been notable by their silence, and others are being investigated. The information that we gave to all the law agencies has safeguarded our positions, and proven to the public that the Crime-lords are still active, and fear us."

"He's right." said Paladin. "The figures show our popularity has risen to almost eighty percent approval."

Granite didn't even glance at the newest rider, but instead transferred his gaze to Draco, who returned it calmly.

"I suppose that this was your idea?"

"He suggested it, but I gave the go-ahead."

All eyes snapped round to the entrance, which had opened to admit Maria Bush. As she stepped into the hall, all the Dragons bowed their heads in respect, while the Riders stood to attention, except for Draco, who reached for a chair that was in the corner, and placed it on the dias for Maria. As she sat down, the Riders and Dragons settled themselves back down, their attention riveted to her.

"I would have preferred for more subtlety, but your approach has its own uses. Brute force, properly applied, can have greater effects than subtlety."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, my muse abandoned me at this point. If anyone wants this story, it's theirs.


	3. Pridelands

_To his Imperial Majesty Frederick Warhammer III_

_The Benevolent Ruler of the Great Plains Empire,  
Master of the Eastern Sea,  
Master of the Northern Sea,  
Over-King of the Protected Provences,  
Grand-General of the Army of Triumph,  
Prince of the Northern Mountain-lands  
and the Beloved of Ahra, the God whose Light illuminates the world that His Majesty doth protect._

_Great One._

_As you no doubt recall due to your vastly superior memory and intellect, it was by your orders that I was dispatched to pass beyond the Western Peaks and begin gathering intelligence about the barbarians there, what towns and villages may exist and what petty lordlings rule them, information to be gathered ready for the day that your Glorious Army of Triumph moves to expand the reach of your benevolent rule, bringing the barbarians out of the cold of their miserable existence and showing them the superior way of life that we civilized men enjoy._

_I regret to say that upon this occasion, expanding your reach may not be the wisest course of action._

_Before you order my death on the charges of treason, I beg you to read the rest of this report, that you may understand why I have been forced to such an unprecedented conclusion, one that I truly wish I had not reached. Our armies have proven that they are invincible against the forces that other lesser nations can summon against us. Our infantry is the best-drilled and disciplined force in history, our archers are renowned for their rates of fire, accuracy and stamina whilst our cavalry is as fleet as the wind and can run any other mounted force into the mud. Our combat engineers can construct grand fortifications and weapons of war within days, whilst our healers have skills and knowledge that are un-matched in any other land._

_Or so we thought._

_What lies beyond the Western Mountains seemed to me to be no more than a collection of villages and towns with the occasional building unworthy of the name of castle from which the drunken warrior leaders occasionally rode out to do battle. The only real oddity was the trade-road we followed, its construction the equal of, or possibly superior to anything that the Empire boasts. The road itself was made of large slabs, cunningly cut and fitted so that not even the slimmest knife may be pushed between them. From the one area we saw being repaired (due to a tree that had been felled in a storm), I saw that the foundations of the road go as deep as your tallest guardsman stands in full regalia. Large stones, packed small stones, mortar and carefully-placed shaped boulders fitted together make the road one of the strongest I have ever seen. Under other circumstances, I would have said that it would be the perfect route for an invasion, since an entire army could march along it without causing more than minor, cosmetic damage._

_Then we reached the Bridge Over The River, and the Gatehouse, and I realized that the Empire has now got an unexpected rival..._

* * *

Ambassador Kirian, Baron of the Dragonsridge Valley, looked round at the woodlands which surrounded them and fortunately, in his opinion, hid the previous collection of hovels and crude fortifications which had been the laughably-named Princedom of River-hill, a name derived from the fact that the village was on a small hill by a curve of the mighty river that apparently marked the border of a large empire which rumor claimed was the home to warriors more mighty than those of the Great Plains Empire which Kirian represented. Under other circumstances, the claim would have been instantly dismissed as barbarian posturing, but the road on which they traveled was one of, if not _the_ , finest that Kirian had ever seen, its stone surface flanked by turf which cushioned the hooves of the horses which trotted along it. Although the quality of the turf had varied significantly along their passage (being the responsibility of whichever so-called Princedom, Barony or whatever was nearest it), the road itself was amazing in how well it had been maintained. According to the trader who had been hired as their guide, the road itself was kept in repair by groups from the empire they were travelling to.

"Great lord, we are about to reach the border. I suggest that you prepare yourself."

Kirian nodded to his guide.

"Thank you, but I have seen borders and their fortifications before. I do not think that what lies ahead will come as any surprise to... oh my..."

The curve of the corner had concealed the bridge ahead and Kirian stared at it in shock. The bridge itself was slightly wider than the road and turf lanes, and the turf continued onto the bridge until a third of the way across, when the bridge switched from stone to wood, solidly built and linked with chains to a pair of towers, then beyond to large vertical wheels which allowed the central span to be raised. Beyond the wood, the stone-and-turf resumed, vanishing into the gateway of a large fortress which spread almost three hundred paces upstream and downstream of the gate, the walls rising from the icy cold of the river.

"The border, Great Lord. That is the River Gate. Those beyond currently have little interest about what lies this side of the river, they built the road because they believed that they might need it one day. Normally, the only time they use it is their monthly check that it remains in good condition, and woe to the Prince who has let it become overgrown on his portion."

Kirian reined in his horse and held out his hand. His spyglass was placed into it and he raised it to his eye, adjusting it for a sharper view.

"The gate is open, but the ramparts are manned, I see both men and women in armor. Light armor, but with the river and that bridge, they need not fear surprise assaults. All of them are carrying bows, again, not a surprise. Trader, what can you tell me of this place?"

"Only that I, and all other traders that I know, have never been far beyond the gate. Five hundred paces beyond the first wall is a second one, with a gate as strong as the one you see before you now. No-one not of their land is allowed beyond that gate."

"Yet you come here often?"

"They pay with gold." the merchant said with a shrug. "Gold, gems, all things of great value. They do not buy much, but what they do buy, they pay for handsomely. They also have a few stalls of their own, selling food, fabric, rare herbs and items crafted with incredible skill. Other traders also come, bringing supplies for those who make the trading area their home. Since I am your hired guide and have experience dealing with them, I will be the first trader to travel beyond the Inner Gate."

Kirian nodded and twitched his reins to start his horse again.

"Well, let us see what they have been hiding all these decades."

.

The area between the two walls was not as crowded as Kirian had, from his previous experience with trading camps, expected. The tents and stalls were laid out in a regular pattern, the lanes clear of displayed stock or advertising banners. Several dozen people clad in the various styles of the villages he had passed browsed the stalls, while other people, clad in smooth fabrics cut in styles he didn't recognize, mingled with them, haggling in trade-talk. Several of the stalls nearest the inner gate were formed from large banners on which a sigil, a cat's head and a human head in profile, half-merged and facing away from each other, were emblazoned. As they approached, the inner gate started to rise, revealing the long tunnel behind, as well as the line of guardsmen carrying a strange type of halberd that Kirian had never seen before. One of the guardsmen stepped forwards.

"Are you the party we have been told to expect? Please identify yourselves."

Kirian drew himself up and held out his hand, accepting the leather binder which one of his armsmen placed in it.

"I am Ambassador Kirian of the Great Plains Empire. These are my guardsmen, my secretary Lantos and my guide, merchant Takal. Here are the documents of safe-travel we were sent."

The guardsman pulled out the documents and quickly leafed through them, his eyes flicking up as he matched each document to it's owner. After a few moments, he nodded, placed the documents back in the folder and handed it back.

"You are accepted, Ambassador. The path to the PrideLands is open, your escort awaits at the end of the tunnel. May your mission result in peace."

"That it does so is my hope, also." Kirian said, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement as the line of guards moved aside. The guardsman bowed slightly and moved out of the way, allowing Kirial to lead his group into the tunnel and towards the light at the end.

.

"What the...?"

Kirial managed to stop himself from blurting anything else as he exited the tunnel and saw his escort. Although the men (and women) in it were clad in the same style as the guards at the gate, their steeds were a different matter entirely.

"Are those... cats?"

Lantos's quiet voice was filled with shock and Kirian nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off the giant felines, each of whom was at least six foot tall at the shoulder and clad in a strange yet obviously effective combination of armoured barding and saddle. The effect was so strange that for a few moments, he failed to notice a small but vital detail.

"My lord," Lantos whispered, "I see no way for them to control the cats. There are no reins!"

Kirial's eyes flickered to the empty hands of the riders, then he nodded slowly.

"So I see. Well spotted, Lantos. But then how...?"

One of the riders, clad identically to the others but with a trio of golden slashes on his shoulder, growled slightly and the cat slowly paced forwards, coming to a halt a few paces away from Kirial.

"Ambassador Kirial, I am Rider-captain Galshan. This is Grrowwrrwereww, his name translates in trade-speak to Hunter Of Winds. My squad has been assigned to escort you to Unity City at the best speed you can comfortably maintain. On the way, I will be pleased to answer your questions. Word has already been sent ahead reserving rooms at the travel lodges, each lodge is a days walk apart, so with your steeds, you may be able to travel fast enough to rest every second or third lodge. We do not use horses here, but we have had stables and fodder prepared at all the places on our route."

"You use... those giant cats instead?" Kirial asked, staring at Galshan's steed.

"The Kin honor us with their willingness to carry us as swiftly as the wind." Galshan replied. "They guard us with fang and claw, as we guard them with hand and steel. They hunt by our sides, help to watch our younglings as we watch over theirs, provide their strength in exchange for our skill. We are stronger by far together than either of our kind could be alone."

"And how did this... friendship start?"

"That is a long story, Ambassador. With your permission, I shall tell it to you as we travel. Shall we depart?"

Kirial nodded and tapped his heels against his horse's flanks, sending it into a trot. Jingling behind him indicated his party was also moving, but his attention was on his escort. Without the riders doing anything he could identify as control, his escort moved to flank his party on either side, the riders turning their attention outwards while their feline steeds maintained perfect formation.

.

Kirial glanced across to where Lantos was finishing writing up the observations of the first day's journey, then his eyes flicked back as the door to his room opened and his chief guardsman entered, looking somewhat perturbed.

"My lord, may I report?"

Kirial nodded and the guardsman braced to attention.

"I apologize for taking so long to notice, but our escorts are... unusually equipped. I have not seen anything like that which they have."

"What do you mean?"

"They do not use bows, my lord. They have... something else. Something I do not understand, but which seems to be far more powerful."

Kirial raised an eyebrow and motioned for the guardsman to continue.

"Several of us were practicing our archery on the target range behind the lodge. When I went to retrieve the arrows, I noticed something odd about the targets. They had seen heavy use, and I managed to extract this."

The guardsman held out his hand and Kirial reached out, picking up the item resting on his palm. Holding it up, he frowned at it.

"It seems to be... some sort of metal sling-stone? Odd shape..."

"It was buried almost a finger-length in the target, my lord. And the target was a sawn log placed on its side, the rings acting as the target. Hardwood, half of _my_ arrows failed to penetrate enough to lodge. The caved-in end was the end facing outwards."

Kirial looked at the pellet in his hand with a new respect.

"Someone managed to throw this that far into the tree? What sort of sling could do that?"

"I... I don't think it was a sling, my lord." The guardsman said, shifting slightly. "I noticed an odd smell on it, faint but... I worked in the stone-mines once, sir. It smells very much like the blast-powder the stone-smiths use."

Kirial frowned but raised the pellet and inhaled. Lowering his hand, he frowned again, this time in thought.

"The blast-powder the stone-smiths use is very dangerous, as I recall." He said. "It separates out when transported any distance, ignites without warning and the power of the blast is very hard to judge, even for those who have extensive experience with it. Normally I would laugh at the thought that it could be used for war, but this... this suggests I would be wrong."

Silence descended for a moment as all three of the rooms occupants stared at the metal pellet, then Kirial nodded.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Did any of the locals see you collect this from the range?"

"No my lord. Most of them were elsewhere, and the few that remained were distracted by the others and their impromptu competition at the other end of the range. I don't believe that anyone noticed."

"Excellent. Go get yourself something to eat."

The guardsman bowed and left, and Lantos rose from his writing bench and walked over. Kirial handed the pellet to him, and leaned back in his chair.

"Lantos, your opinion so far?"

Lantos glanced at him, then resumed his examination of the pellet.

"My lord, during the journey from the gate, I was watching our escort closely. Some of them were clearly conversing with the cats they were riding, I think the cats are possibly as intelligent as any human. Without the need to use reins and with intelligent steeds, their cavalry can use weapons that ours cannot. They carry those odd halbards which can be used as lances, spears or staffs. They carry their swords slung over their right shoulders, curved swords, but slim ones, not like the scimitirs of the desert wanderers, but they carry something else in full scabbards over their left shoulders. I thought it was an oddly-shaped battle-axe at first, but... they may be the things that launch pellets such as this."

Kirial nodded slowly.

"I agree. I have no idea what is in their left scabbards, but it's definitely worth keeping an eye on. However, don't try to take one, it would not be a good thing for our mission. We have plenty of time to discover their secrets."

Lantos nodded and offered back the pellet, but Kirial motioned for him to keep it.

"Keep your eyes open for more of their secrets. The pellet worries me, a fingerlength into hardwood? It would take solid armor to resist something like that. And if they have managed to get the pellets loosed as fast as one of our best archers can, our armies would take great casualties against them. We need to find out how they have done this, but the capital will be the best place to do that."

"Yes, my lord."

.

The road emerged from the cutting and Kirial inhaled sharply at the vista spread out in front of him. Filling the valley was a large city, the building rising up the sides but with many green areas scattered through the city to the point that less than half the valley floor was covered in buildings. Wide roads traversed the valley, angling up the sides to reduce the angle, but with flights of stairs linking the different levels for pedestrians. Although the distance blurred the details somewhat,. he could see both humans and Kinfolk mingling as they went their ways. At the end of the valley, a large ridge rose, almost unnatural in it's smoothness and holding back a long lake which wound back into the mountains. From the bottom of the ridge, a cluster of buildings marked where the river boiled out of caves, the water frothing and churning as it poured into a large pool and from there on through the valley-city in a number of streams and channels.

"Welcome to Unity City." Galshan said, his voice filled with pride. "Here is where the two-legs and the Kin first allied and where the Council is seated."

Kirial stared at the bustling site before him and swallowed several times before finding his voice.

"I had come to expect something large, but... this is almost as large as Capital City. I see no walls from here, but the mountains probably mean you do not need many."

"They also provide us with the stone we need to build, with the space for storehouses, with mines for the metals and minerals we need to keep our society going." Galshan said, gazing at the panorama. "We have fields on the lower slopes and mines on the upper, this city may not be fully self-sufficient, but we can last a decade or more if besieged. Not that we expect that to happen, but we believe in being prepared."

Kirial nodded and turned his gaze to Galshan.

"Are we to be presented to the Council as soon as we arrive?"

Galshan shook his head. "No, we have prepared a mansion for you and your staff. Your presentation is scheduled three days from now, unless that is too soon, in which case we can re-schedule it. Your mansion is in the part of the city that we put aside for those representing other powers, you are the first."

Galshan growled slightly and Hunter Of Winds nodded slightly, then started to move slowly towards the city. Kirial twitched his reins to keep up.

"I must tell you that there was a great deal of debate about the wisdom of allowing other powers to know of our existence." Galshan said. "Many of our number were of the opinion that we should keep all those not of the PrideLands out and fortify our borders. Others wanted to launch a war of conquest, if all were like the lordlings along our borders, we would have won easily, without needing to call for more volunteers for our militia. However, the Prime and the Second were swayed by the argument that peaceful contact was best. Although it would take longer, it would cost less in the long run and the resulting bonds would be stronger."

"A wise decision." said Kirial. "I look forwards to meeting the Prime and the Second, they seem like leaders of uncommon wisdom."

"That is why we chose them." Galshan said with a smile and Kirian stared at him in shock.

* * *

.

_According to the tales we were told during our journey from the Bridge to the Unity City, the capital of the PrideLands, the alliance between the humans and the Kin was forged several hundred years ago when a group of refugees from a wartorn land (which may have been your Glorious Empire in the earliest days of our history, I have yet to confirm the details) fled though a pass in the mountains and tried to carve out a steadhold. One of the fugitives was a young girl who became separated from her family and found a wounded Kinfolk kitten. Although lost and scared, she cared for him, cleaning and binding his wounds, hunting for him, and when the Kin found them, their gratitude for her actions led to them carrying her back to her family._

_Over the next dozen years, the girl and the Kin she had rescued often moved between the human steading and the Kin clan-ranges, each learning to understand the language of the other and bringing both together. Other youngsters of both races followed their example and soon the humans and Kin merged their societies, having gained appreciation for the skills of the other._

_To this union, the humans brought the ability to manipulate things better than the Kin could, with greater precision. They could carve delicate patterns into wood, place the old Kinsongs onto paper, thus ensuring they could not be forgotten and perform many feats that the Kin had been unable to do._

_The Kin brought their fearsome strength, superior senses and great minds to the new partnership. Their traditional search for the greater truths, their "hunting of the facts", proved a match and more for the human philosophers. Soon renowned for their great courage and great hearts, the Kin became known as the great thinkers of the Union, seeking new ways to protect the weak ones who had become dear to them._

_To celebrate their alliance, the two races chose to do something previously untried, they created a system of governance which led to their leaders being chosen not for bloodline or martial prowess, but by acclaim from the people. Since the honor of the Kin was beyond question, the first of their leaders, the Prime, was always one of the Kin, while the Second was always a human._

_To be chosen, those who sought office had to pass a set of tests. They must have served in one of the Paths of Service for at least ten years, they must themselves have voted at least four times and they had to meet certain levels for patience, thinking ability, oratory, mathematics, languages and a dozen other such requirements. In addition, those who entered the paths of power were not awarded any money for doing this, as it was understood that they were doing it to serve the PrideLands, it was a duty and not a reward._

* * *

.

Kirial looked down from the platform at the enormous water-wheel which slowly rotated below him. Other water-wheels were visible through gaps and tunnels into the other caverns, each powered by a carefully-sculpted channel through which the water flowed ceaselessly.

"As you can see," his guide said proudly, "the water goes through the channel and over the wheel. The cutting keeps the water from spilling and, after travelling almost half-way round to the bottom, the water flows away. This is one of the most efficient water-wheels we have, far more efficient than breast-shot or simple waterwheels. We call it the full overshot type."

Kirial looked at it again, seeing how the portion of the wheel he could see was over twice his height and turning with a kind of unstoppable slowness. The thick axle was unconnected, but metal teeth mounted inside the rim of the wheel turned several cogwheels, each of which transmitted the power to arm-wide chains that emerged from and vanished into smaller tunnels at various angles.

"Where do the chains go?"

"To our manufacturies, forges, mills and other places that the power is needed." came the instant response. "This wheel alone powers eight, the others power up to six each. Even the smallest of the score of wheels powers four."

Kirial quickly did a few sums in his head and raised his eyebrows. "That would be around a hundred, yes?"

"It would. And we do need the power. Our metalworking forges need the power to pump air into the furnaces, the mills need it to grind corn, the manufacturies use it to power lathes and drills. We have had quite a while to develop these things."

Kirial nodded slowly, his eyes tracing the paths of the long, thick chains as they moved with the power provided by the wheel. "I have a question. Is it mainly humans who work here?"

"Mainly, yes. The Kin find it hard to work as we do, they need raised stools to lie on in order to do any delicate work. Although their craftsmanship is somewhat less than ours, their ability to think things through has saved us uncountable man-hours of work."

"And what do you make?"

The guide glanced at the wheel.

"This wheel powers two of our weapons-smiths where we make blades, crossbows and other weapons. It also powers a powder-mill, a couple of textile-manufacturies and several variable-use factories. It serves our purposes. Shall we continue our tour?"

Kirial nodded and followed him out of the caverns, back into the tunnel which led back to the surface.

"What you have showed me so far surpasses anything that the Empire has. Aren't you afraid that I'll send back information about it, strengthening my people?"

The guide shook his head with a smile. "No. We have hidden some things from you, but what we have needs certain tools to make. We have the tools to make those, you do not. To have what we have, you would need the tools to make the tools to make the tools you'd need. You probably have the first tools, maybe some of the second, but we doubt you have the third."

Kirial nodded slowly, then half-turned to his guide.

"Please excuse this question, but I was wondering why so many of the judges were of the Kin, rather than being of an even split."

His guide gave a small shrug. "Our judges are required to know all of the Laws and how they are subjugated to actual Justice. That takes a great deal of learning. Since the Kin generally have better memories than we two-legs, as well as better control over their emotions, that means that more of our law-givers and law-keepers are Kin rather than human. It works out very well."

Kirian raised his hand against the bright sky and blinked as his eyes adjusted back to the daylight. After a moment, he looked out across the cityscape, noting the activity in one of the larger parks.

"What is happening over there?"

The guide squinted, then pulled out a short tube. Extending it, he placed it against his eye and nodded slightly.

"That's the Festival of Unity, or it will be. It starts in a couple of days, they're starting to put up the decorations and assemble the obstacles."

"Obstacles?"

"Yes." came the reply. "Part of the festival is a competition where pairs race across a series of obstacles. Humans aren't allowed to touch the ground and teamwork is vital to get through several of the obstacles. Prizes are awarded for the best time and the smoothest co-operation. Birth-pairs tend to have quite an advantage."

"Birth-pairs?" Kirial repeated and the guide grinned.

"Yep. Humans and Kin raised together, like siblings or cousins. It's quite common, the Kin love having their coats groomed and we humans make clothes out of their shed hairs."

Kirial nodded slowly. "So that's why so many wear tops the same color as the Kin they are with. I thought it was just a fashion statement until now."

"Having a top of Kin-shed is a mark of friendship or family-bonding." the guide said with a smile. "The fur used tells other Kin who the human is claimed by. Elegant, comfortable and practical."

"I am... surprised that it would be possible." Kirial said after a moment's thought. "The fur of the Kin is so short, it would appear be hard to weave into threads."

"Not the winter-fur. The Kin grow long hair during the cold season, and shed it in the spring. We gather that hair and turn it into thread, and then weave it into clothes. Sometimes we do the opposite."

"The... opposite? Human hair for the Kin?"

"Yep, body-harnesses usually. Helps that we can grow our hair so long." The guide paused and raised his hand to his shaven head. "The Kin wear our hair, we wear theirs, and both are happy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was intended to be a foray into fantasy, but I lost track of what it was going to be and then I realized I'd been overly-inspired by the Icemark series for this, so I halted it.


	4. Angel Flight

**Prologue**

_Secret military base, 12_ _th_ _June, 2043._

The alarms blared and warning lights flashed in the nearly-deserted military-research installation. The only one still in the base was a man, held against his will, who had undergone a series of medical procedures to create a super-soldier with plus-human capabilities. He lay on a restraining-table, his bio-engineered wings extended, his arms showing the supernaturally rapidly-fading scars of weapon-implantation. His eyes, unseeing, were like cats eyes, staring blankly at nothing, the mind behind them warped and shaped by induced memory-loss and hypnotic commands yet still capable of independent thought due to the incomplete nature of his alterations.

As the alarms continued to blare, the man slowly levered himself upright. He straightened, compensating for the weight of his wings, and took a single step towards the door just before a sudden flash of bright light removed him and the entire base from the face of the planet.

.

The scientists gazed down at the perfectly circular area where the landscape had changed. Instead of the subterranean base and the semi-disguised access points, the ground beneath their helicopter was a giant near-perfect sphere of gold-shot rock, the perfection of the sphere marred only by an angled surface where the mirror-bright rock was weathered and covered in now-melting snow.

"Headquarters reports no signal-detection from the base, wherever or whenever it is, it is no longer on this planet."

One of the other scientists nodded, her attention fixed on the sphere below and a snarl fixed on her otherwise perfect face.

"Any idea which experiment caused this?"

"Could have been the superstring-wormhole, the probability-chaos inducer, the quantum-teleporter or some sort of resonance between any or all of them. No way of telling without setting up the base again exactly the way it was before and running the experiments again."

The woman sighed.

"The Avenging Angel project was almost reaching fruition. The bio-work was almost complete, I had the armor and primary weapons sorted, another week and he would have been ready for deployment."

The first scientist looked at her.

"Have you selected another subject for the alterations yet?"

The woman shook her head.

"No, my first choice seemed so perfect. Intelligent, honest and relatively fit."

"The fact that he refused a one-night stand with you had nothing to do with it."

The woman glared at the scientist who had spoken.

"All of our projects have effectively been destroyed, now is not the time to question each other's motivations."

The scientist shrugged without apology and turned back to the window.

"I wonder where or when it all went. I've never seen rock like that before, the geological report will be fascinating."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter One**

The light seemed overly bright to the winged man as he staggered out of the building. The ground seemed to be at the wrong angle and what had been open sky was now a rocky dome, except for the ragged-oval mouth through which the blue-yellow sun was shining through. The man frowned as he tried to remember what had happened. Faces and images passed through his mind, unconnected yet somehow promising to be part of a greater whole. A woman who tried to tempt him away from his wife. Painful procedures. The smell of chloroform. Suited men staring at him from above. Being forced to learn how to use his new wings. His intestines being augmented with bio-machinery. Injections to strengthen his muscles without increasing their size or weight.

The man blinked away the images. He could worry about them later, for now survival was the priority. He needed protection. An image of a lightweight yet almost invulnerable armor suit came to him and he turned, knowing where it was and how to put it on without being able to remember where the knowledge came from. A sudden thought struck him and he spoke a name, a name which he knew was not his true name but which was nevertheless his.

"Gabriel."

The word seemed unusual, yet somehow right. The man smiled and continued towards the armour awaiting him.

.

The cool breeze flowed down the slope of the mountain as the man who knew himself only as Gabriel stepped out of the strange cavern. He inhaled deeply and stretched his wings out. As his feathers rippled in the breeze, he looked around, seeing nothing familiar to him. In front of him, a forest spread out for miles before it gave way to a rolling grassland. To either side of him, rolling hills and small mountains formed a line to the horizon. Gabriel inhaled again and knew that the air was rich in oxygen, richer than it should have been. He smiled and leapt into the air, his wings pumping to provide lift, effort augmented by specialized tubes in his wings which sucked in air and expelled it at high speed at the trailing ends of his wings, providing extra oxygen to his blood as they did so. The ground seemed to fall away as he gained altitude and turned his attention to the geography of the area. Images of maps flashed through his head, but the area did not match them.

"Where am I?"

No answer came and Gabriel climbed further, letting the air caress his feathers as he looked down over the untamed wilderness. Implanted organic devices reported a total lack of radio signals beyond normal background noise while his enhanced eyes saw that all the trees below had leaves of a strange shade of green and triangular in shape, something that he realized was not found on Earth.

"Where is this place?"

Again, the answer was conspicuous by its absence. Gabriel sighed and altered his flightpath to where the mouth of the cavern was glowing against the bulk of the dusk-silhouetted mountain. He was getting hungry and there was undoubtedly food in the base. Since its small nuclear reactor still provided power, he had several years before he needed to worry about finding a new power source and the food would undoubtedly last long enough for him to work out what he needed to do next.

.

The computer screen glowed brightly in the dark room and Gabriel sat in front of it, reading the files with a mounting sense of disbelief and hatred. The computer had been easy to crack since the person who normally used it had left a piece of paper with his login number and password behind a file cabinet. Although a normal person would have found it difficult to move, Gabriel had simply picked it up and put it on its side, revealing the paper attached to its base. With that, he found himself able to access every file in the computer system, including those which related to himself and what he had been. He smoothed back his head-feathers as he looked at the data before him, data which told him just how much he had been altered.

The enhancements were all biological, even those which replicated artificial devices such as GPS and radio communications and his body had been infused with nano-machines created from his own white blood cells, nano-machines that let him heal from any wound within an hour, which would protect him from any infection and would keep him at his prime forever. Other files that he had not yet read hinted at more with titles such as Neural Reconfiguration and Hypnotic Control Matrix Implementation. The data which had most horrified him, however, had nothing to do with his modifications but rather with why he had undergone the procedures. Part of him had hoped that he had volunteered for it, starting out crippled and gaining a full life through his suffering but the truth was elegant in its fathomless cruelty. Somewhere or somewhen else, two children believed their father had died and their mother was mourning him. The reason he had been chosen was because he had refused to have an affair with the scientist in charge of the project and in a fit of pique, she had run his DNA and statistics through a computer and realized that he was one of the best possibilities for alteration that she had encountered.

"Alfred Worthington."

The name seemed not to fit and Gabriel felt anguish rip through him as he realized why. The one called Alfred Worthington had been killed by the scientist who had arranged to kidnap him and transform him. She had killed Alfred and created Gabriel in his place, reshaping him so that no-one would be able to recognize him. The face in the screen was not the face he now wore, the blond hair had gone, replaced by silver-white feathers, the blue eyes replaced by silver slitted orbs. No, Alfred was gone.

With a darting motion, Gabriel accessed a file he had avoided and let his gaze rest on one name and the picture beside it. Rose Marianna, a soft name for a woman capable of bottomless malice that believed itself justified. He let his eyes rest on the picture, memorizing every line and feature. The odds were against it but should they ever meet, he would recognize her instantly and kill her, not from revenge but so that she could not ruin the lives of anyone else with her twisted genius.

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel closed down the system. Tomorrow, he would access the files on the other projects and see if there was anything he could use but for tonight, he would eat and sleep.

.

The feline-like creature stared up at the glow from the odd cave. The glow worried it, although it was not fully sentient, it was nevertheless bright enough to know that new often meant threat. For over an hour it watched the steady light, trying to understand it, and then it vanished back into the forest without a sound.

.

Gabriel stood on the lip of the cavern, gazing over the rolling landscape. The astronomy and botanical files had confirmed that he was no longer on Earth, yet he had managed to locate what he believed to be Orion's Belt. The only problem was that if he was correct, it lay almost between him and Earth, leaving him uncertain as to what it meant. Even stranger, the positioning and brightness of the stars was still slightly wrong, as if they had reverted to an earlier time or advanced to a later one. He did not understand it but at least he knew that he was safe from the one who had created him.

Turning away from the view, he walked towards the base that he thought of as his refuge, holding the corpse of a six-limbed arboreal mammalian-equivalent of the same species that his tests had confirmed that his implant-enhanced body could metabolize. The multiple buildings in front of him were dark, except for the one that contained living quarters and which he had decided to use himself. As he entered the building, he shed the armor that he was wearing and donned a pair of trousers. With his foot-talons clicking against the sloping hardwood floor, he strode to the kitchen and started, with ease of long practice, to skin and prepare the body of the tree-scurrier. Glancing out of the window, he froze as his eyes focused on the shape of a predatory mammal outlined against the sky. For a moment it seemed to stare at him despite the distance between them and then it turned and slunk away. Gabriel breathed out in relief and turned on the tap. Water, captured from a spring in the far side of the cavern and re-directed via judiciously-placed piping to a raided water tank and then to outside, started to splash into the sink and Gabriel turned his attention to preparing his next meal.

.

The feline-like creature turned away from the mouth of the cavern and fled back to its preferred forest. The cavern that had appeared without warning on the snow-covered slope several days ago was larger than anything it had ever come across before and the strange things inside it were nothing like it had ever encountered before. The sight of the odd rocks was made stranger by the fact that some of them were obviously being altered by the flying being, disassembled and re-assembled so that the sides were not sloped but were instead vertical. The being snarled in confusion, the thoughts it was trying to have hurt and as it moved away from the cave, it gradually abandoned its unaccustomed cogitation in favor of concentrating on finding its next meal.

.

Gabriel stood back and regarded his handiwork with pride. It had taken him several months, even with his inbuilt advantages, but he had managed to demolish two of the buildings and use their materials to build a new thick-walled tower against the side of the cavern. The ten-storey structure (six above ground, four below) was firmly attached to the curving wall and although the platform at the top was only ten meters deep and just as wide, the curvature of the wall had allowed him to capitalize on it by making the tower wedge-shaped, appearing to be a similar shape to a thin, truncated pizza slice as seen from near the cavern roof.

Now that the tower was complete and the hardware from the Base had been moved into it, he could start work on other projects such as clearing land for cultivation and stockpiling food. The days had been getting shorter (although the actual day-night cycle lasted just over twenty-seven hours) and Gabriel did not know how bad winter would be. Given his ignorance, his only real option was to collect as much food as possible and store it in the freezers that he had transferred into the basements. With a grin he flexed his wings and flew up to the top of the tower. Opening the door at the back, he entered the completed structure. Once he had donned his armor, it was time to start hunting.

.

The feline-like creature watched the flying thing enter the new stone nest it had been constructing. The stone nest was against the side of the cavern and the creature that lived in it was able to do things that often confused the observer. However, merely watching the flying thing had given it some ideas and a paw caressed a crudely-made skin-pouch tied with a length of vine. The sight of the flying thing throwing rocks that stunned its prey had been an education and the lesson had been eagerly learned. The feline-like creature had mated and bred successfully and he had been able to catch more than enough food to ensure that his offspring all thrived.

A small noise interrupted his mental progress and he looked down to where the youngest of his seven offspring was standing. Like him, the youngster was wearing a pouch with rocks in it and had learned how to throw them with suprising accuracy. The youngster headbutted him and they turned to go on the hunt. The long cold was coming and they needed to be well-fed to live through it.

.

The wind howled outside the cave, carrying the threat of snow. Gabriel ignored it, crouched in the entrance to the home-cavern and examining something that had caught his attention. A flat area of rock behind a low ridge showed evidence of recent occupation with claw-marks showing where something had climbed up to it and descended, not just once but many times. In addition, certain variations in the claw-marks suggested at least two of the whatever-they-were's had been there. Looking round, Gabriel stared at the home-cavern, almost completely visible from his position.

"What did it want?"

Gabriel frowned as he considered various alternatives. The only facts he could determine were that something (or some things) had chosen to use the area to rest, that they would have had a good view of the home-cavern and that they had, for reasons he could not work out, chosen not to go into the Cavern. He sighed and shook his head and then a thought occurred to him. Looking up at the rock overhead, he smiled. He had rock-climbing equipment, flight abilities and remote cameras, he could install a camera high up and point it at the platform. If the thing or things returned, he would have imagery of them and would be able to learn more about them. His plan set, he went in search of the items he would need.

.

The snow descended in a white mass outside the cavern, the occasional flurry drifting inside, and Gabriel watched it fall with an expression of disapproval on his face. Despite his clothing, he still shivered as the cold gusts of wind made their presence felt. He turned his back on the falling snow and made his way to the control room in his tower. Sitting down at the desk, he activated the computer and once again replayed the imagery from the camera. On the screen, two furred six-legged creatures walked onto the rock and settled down so that they could peer over the ridge of rock. His first thought, that they were nothing more than standard predators, had been shattered by the sight of the pouched belts that they wore.

As he watched the imagery again, the larger being passed the smaller one a lump of meat taken from the pouch. Gabriel frowned, the camera was too far away to get audio but the meaning was unmistakable. The creatures were, if not sentient, definitely tool users. The ability to not only visualize ways to carry items but actually create them implied a cognitive capability at least equal to an Earth primate. He watched for another few minutes and then switched off the system. Whatever the things he had designated neolions were, they had not entered camera range since the snow started to fall. He found himself hoping that they were somewhere safe and warm.

.

The neolion looked out of the cave mouth at the falling snow. Under normal circumstances, it would have dug a nest nest under a tree for itself only but the lessons it had learned from the flying thing had inspired it to find a large cave and, with the help of its mate and offspring, drag large rocks to reduce the size of the entrance to something small enough for them to squeeze through. An unexpected but very welcome side-effect of the fact that they were all sharing a cave was that their body heat kept the cave warm enough that they could all relax while the rocks kept the snow out of their shelter.

Although he could not see the cave of the flying being from his cave, he wondered how it was doing. He had learned so much from it, and his children were learning even more. He would hate to not learn any more, his life was so much better already.

.

Gabriel rose and looked out of the slit-window towards the cave entrance. Something seemed wrong with the view and he suddenly realized that the sky was different. Instead of being the normal gray or white of winter, it was bright blue, hopefully indicating that the seemingly-endless winter had finally ended. Dashing down, he grabbed his armour and donned it rapidly. Gathering his sword, bow and arrows, he opened the door and slammed it again, shooting the bolts closed before he finished registering the presence of a neolion a mere dozen meters away from the tower. Taking a deep, albeit ragged, breath, he sprinted up the stairs and burst out onto the roof. Dashing to the edge with an arrow nocked, he stopped as he saw the neolion trotting away to the entrance where eight others waited for it. As it joined them, it looked back at him and then they all vanished.

"What the hell?"

Gabriel watched the empty cavern-mouth for several minutes before returning the arrow to its quiver. He shook his head to clear it and tried to calm his thundering pulse.

"Okay, what was it doing there?"

The simple question seemed to unlock a chain of reasoning. The neolion had been watching him, possibly even learning from him. It undoubtedly knew where he lived and if it had wanted to eat him, it would have been close enough to the door that it could have pounced before he had a chance to close it. Therefore, it wanted something else, but what? The neolions it had gone to acted like they were part of its family, yet the other neolions he had glimpsed tended to be solitary. Perhaps they had learned how to hunt in packs? The pouch-belt it had worn had more pouches than before, so it was a tool user, yet none of the solitary neolions he had glimpsed before had worn anything.

Gabriel shook his head. He didn't have enough information yet but he would keep an eye out. In the meantime, he would hunt to refill his larder, then see about rigging some sort of protection for the cavern-mouth.

.

The neolion led his family away from the cavern. He had been worried about the flying thing, but it was alive and appeared to be well. He looked forwards to learning more from it but in the meantime, he was hungry, as were his family. He led them to the hunting grounds where the first of the large-prey were eating. Alone, he would not have considered even trying to take one down, they were too big, but his family was large and together they could do it with rocks and claws. They would feast soon.

.

Gabriel gazed down on the scene below with a sense of detached amazement. The gigantic rodent-like creatures that were slowly drifting across the plains had attracted his attention since one of them would provide enough meat for several months. However, his hunt had been postponed by the sight of nine neolions surrounding one of the smaller megahamsters. As he watched, several neolions began bombarding the megahamster with rocks, rocks flung with enough force to cut its skin and make it turn towards them in preparation for a charge. As it did so, two of the others dashed in and slashed at its legs while a third leapt onto its back and sank its jaws into its neck. The embattled megahamster tried to shake its attackers off but as it raised its head, the smallest neolion dashed in and slashed open its neck. Within a minute, it was dead and the neolions fastened vines to it to drag the corpse under cover of the trees.

"I have to admit, I've never seen that happen before."

Gabriel looked round and decided to postpone his hunt for another day, he still had enough food to keep him going for a few more weeks. He needed to reconsider his opinions about the neolions.

.

The neolion was happy, the plan as created by his eldest daughter had worked. His seven children had evolved the plan between them, using barks and whines to communicate things that he had been unable to understand. His daughter had told him what to do in a way he could understand and he had done so, leaping onto the large-prey's back to attack it when his eldest sons attacked its legs. The attack on its throat by his youngest had come as a surprise, but it had worked and now they all had full bellies. In addition, his youngest had used a sharp rock to cut the legs off the large-prey and although the legs were each the size of a neolion, the intent was clear, carry them back to the home-cave for eating later. The neolion felt content, he was still learning and life was better than he could remember.

.

Gabriel stood back and regarded his work critically. The multiple layers of fencing around the base had proven invaluable to his defenses and he had carefully transferred each panel to the cavern-mouth and installed it. From a distance, the wire-mesh was almost invisible and only the long, welded metal beam framework that supported the panels gave it away.  
The mesh panels covered the outer two-thirds of the entrance, stretching from ground to roof and securely anchored to the rock. The middle portion had a lower portion of fencing a mere twelve feet high, leaving a gap sixty feet high and a hundred feet wide for him to fly through whilst the transferred gates meant that he retained the ability to drag through heavy items without sacrificing his security. In addition, the middle portion of the fencing had barbed-wire across the top to prevent anything from climbing over, as did the side-supports of the full-height fencing. Affixing it had proven rather painful, although his wounds had been fully healed within the hour.  
He smiled and lowered his gaze, suddenly finding himself looking at the neolion through the mesh. The neolion returned his gaze and then turned and trotted off, leaving Gabriel totally confused.

.

The neolion felt irritated with himself. Obviously, the flying thing did not mind being watched but considered the cavern to be its personal nest. By going in, he had worried it and it had spun a strange web to keep him out, a web of surprising strength. However, it was still possible to see through the new web, so he could still watch and learn, at least for now.

.

Gabriel rode the winds, watching the ground scroll past below him. Behind him, the mouth of the cavern containing his Tower seemed darker than normal due to the contrast with the solar panels he had discovered in storage and installed above the cave entrance. Together with the hydro-generator he had built using one of the machine shops, the imminent shut-down of the nuclear fusion reactor due to a lack of Boron 11 to catalyse the reaction was no longer such a pressing concern. Instead of panicking about the possible loss of his technological advantage, he could instead hunt and re-stock his freezers.

The herd of megahamsters appeared on the horizon and he carefully nocked an arrow to his bow. As he swooped lower, the herd saw him and started to run away. Gabriel power-dived past them and pulled up into an Immelman turn. Looping round, he pulled and released in one smooth movement, sending his arrow through the eye of one of the megahamsters, slaying it instantly. As the others continued their flight, Gabriel landed next to the body and strode across to the trees. Drawing his monomolecular sword, he cut down a tree and trimmed off its branches. Once it was effectively just a long log, he pulled out a pair of powered track-boards and attached them under the log, turning it from a piece of deadwood to a mobile load-carrier. Pushing it back to the fallen megahamster, he managed to lever it onto the log and tied it securely. Attaching a lead to the end of the log, he started the long trek back to the cave via the track he had painstakingly hacked through the forest.

.

The neolion had watched the winged being cut his way through the forest over the course of several days in confusion, it could fly so why did it need to cut down the trees and make a bare-earth line? Now he had seen the being drag the large-prey on a bizarre made-thing, he understood. The made-thing seemed to move on smooth but not rough ground. He felt a sense of accomplishment at understanding, but his attention was on the made-thing. It had taken his entire family to drag the large-prey to under the trees, if he could understand how the made-thing worked, the task could be made easier. He bent his mind to understanding but it eluded him. Maybe he should bring one of his children with him to watch, they were all cleverer than he was. Not his eldest three, however, they were all pursuing potential mates. Maybe his youngest, he seemed to be the brightest, he was always finding new ideas in what the winged-being did. Perhaps one day, his children, or maybe their children, could learn directly from it. For now, they would hunt. The long Colds seemed to be increasing in length and he wanted to be able to live through the next one.

* * *

.

* * *

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**Chapter Two**

_Seventeenth century after The Return._

Hunter Surestrike loped easily down the cleared path, her true-feet and hand-feet kicking up clouds of dust as she crested the hill. She paused briefly to take in the sight of the Mountain City, located on the slope of the mountain below the Cave of the Ancient, the guardian who held himself apart from Catman society yet constantly watched over it. Shifting the bags which held the prey she had hunted for the last three-day, Surestrike took a couple of deep breaths and started to run down the hill. As she did so, a shadow made her glance up and her normal agility deserted her, sending her into a head-over-tail tumble. An instant later, a pair of clawless hands stopped her tumble and Surestrike found herself looking into the silver orbs of Gabriel's eyes.

"I did not mean to startle you, young hunter. Are you alright?"

Surestrike stared at the winged one in near-shock. The Ancient One was apologizing to her and was asking if she was fine, the Ancient One himself! The highest-ranking person she had ever met before was the leader of the Hunters and Gabriel didn't just outrank him, he transcended all who lived in the city! She took a deep breath and tried to regain her normal mental equilibrium.

"I… I… I'm fine, th… thank you."

Gabriel stared into her eyes for a few seconds and then a gentle smile seemed to settle onto his face. Without breaking eye contact, he reached down and picked up her hunt-bag.

"I believe that this is yours, young hunter. From the weight, you did well. What is your name?"

"Surestrike, daughter of Farrunner and Longwatch."

Surestrike reached out with a trembling hand and took the bag. Gabriel nodded slowly and stepped back. Before she could try to form another sentence, his wings snapped open and he leapt into the air. Surestrike half-turned to follow his flight-path, watching him until he shrank into a mere dot heading for his cave.

.

"Surestrike!"

The excited voice of her youngest brother heralded his arrival by barely a second and Surestrike smiled as he tried to stop in the way that only the young can, a mass of flailing arms and legs which obviously cannot come to a halt in time, but somehow does so in defiance of every type of logic.

"Hello, Pouncer."

The expression of disgust on her brother's face almost caused her to laugh but mindful of his dignity, she managed to keep her face under control.

"Hey, Strike, did you know that the Ancient One actually left His Cave yesterday? Rumor has it that He went to the lakers to help them recover from that giant wave caused by a landslide."

Surestrike flicked an ear to indicate that she already knew.

"You knew about the lakers, Strike?"

"No, I didn't. I do know that He's returned to his cave now. I saw Him pass overhead on my way in."

Pouncer stopped his excited bouncing and stared at her in shock.

"You saw Him up close? Wow! I wish I'd been there. How'd your hunt go?"

Surestrike lowered her bag and Pouncer tried to lift it.

"Wow! You really did good, sister. When I complete my first hunt and take my adult name, I hope that it's as cool as yours."

Surestrike glanced down at her brother, who had taken position beside her and was looking up at her.

"Getting tired of being Pouncer, are you?"

Pouncer sighed as they turned onto their road.

"It's not a bad name or a silly one, like Grasseater or Brightflower, but I want to prove myself properly. I want to be a Hunter or a Protector and I can't until I do a Hunt and take a new name."

"The City needs more than Hunters and Protectors, Pou. What about Healers, Builders, Enforcers? Learn your lessons well enough, you could even be one of the Wingtalkers."

Pouncer stopped dead in his tracks and gazed at her, his eyes wide.

"A Wingtalker? One of the Ancient One's followers? Do you really think that I could become one?"

"Why not? It does mean that you will need to study hard. Wingtalkers must know the basics of all the crafts so that they can understand everything and relay it to the Ancient One as well as be able to relay his responses back. Being a Wingtalker is a high honor, one that sees a lot of competition. If you try hard, I'm sure you can do it."

Pouncer nodded and then dashed up the path to strike the announcement-chime. As Surestrike walked up the path the the front door of their dwelling, the door opened to reveal her parents. They smiled at her and moved aside to let her enter.

.

Surestrike sank onto her favorite floor-cushion and let her breath out in the relieved sigh of one who has eaten well. Across the room her parents also settled, her mother looking at her oddly.

"What is it, mother?"

Farrunner blinked and then smiled nervously.

"I was talking to Longear and she said that you met the Winged One on your way back from your hunt."

Pouncer started to his feet and dashed over to her.

"You _met_ the Ancient One? Why didn't you tell me? Please, tell me now! Tell me, I want to know!"

Surestrike fended off her brother with a smile.

"It's nothing special, in fact it's slightly embarrassing. I was on my way back when a shadow crossed the road in front of me. I looked up and when I realized that it was the Winged One, I fell over. He landed, helped me to my feet and then flew off again. I think He may have thought I was simple-minded, I couldn't seem to get my voice working."

Pouncer stared at her in near-hero worship while Longwatch rubbed his cheek against his life-mate's head before speaking.

"Well, my daughter, how long before you choose to apply to wear the feather of a Wingtalker?"

Surestrike snorted.

"Never. I know my limitations, I am a good Hunter but not very good at the other craft-paths. Meeting the Ancient One once was more than enough for me, He's a very overwhelming person. No, I'll remain a Hunter until I'm too old to hunt and then I'll pass my skills onto the next generation."

"And when will you next Hunt?"

Surestrike thought about the money that her last Hunt had earned her from the neighbors.

"Maybe in a sixday or so. Until then, I think I'll do some shopping for new equipment and maybe go to the History-Building."

Pounce shifted and Surestrike smiled down at him.

"Yes, the next day you have no schooling I'll take you."

.

The item in the display alcove was the oldest article of clothing in the building (assuming that the label "clothing" was applicable). Despite the fact that it was well over two thousand years old, it remained recognizable due to the fact that it had been preserved in a special atmosphere by Gabriel Himself and had been transferred to the History-Building by Him. Pouncer stared at the item and the tag which proclaimed it to be the first known carry-pouch, then at the moving picture above the vine-and-fur pouch of two Neolions moving onto a flat ledge.

"Did we really look like that?"

"You mean like the neotigers and the other neofelines? Yes."

Pouncer fixed his sister with a disbelieving gaze.

"I speak the truth. According to the Ancient One, our people grew from a now-extinct species called neolions over the course of eight centuries or so. He saw most of the evolution Himself until a small Ice Age drove our ancestors south. When the ice retreated, our ancestors returned and He was waiting to welcome us back."

Pouncer regarded the Pouch with awe.

"Did the Ancient One create us?"

Surestrike shook her head.

"He claims that He did not and I am not going to doubt Him."

Pouncer reached out an upper-paw and lightly traced the shape of the Pouch on the glass surface of the display case. Surestrike noticed that beside it was a rock with another label.

"You see this rock, Pou? It was used in the first Hunt that the Ancient One witnessed."

"Indeed it was. I remember it well."

Both Surestrike and Pouncer froze as the voice spoke. Surestrike slowly turned on the spot and found Gabriel standing beside her, his attention on the Pouch. A sudden pressure indicated that Pouncer was clinging to her with all four hand-paws.

"I did not mean to interrupt you, Ancient One."

Although Gabriel seemed not to divert his attention from the display, Surestrike was suddenly convinced that he was nevertheless focused on her.

"No, it is I who should apologise for interrupting you, Hunter Surestrike."

For an instant, the breath seemed to freeze in her throat as she realised that he remembered her. Before she could recover, Pouncer released his death-grip on her and stepped out from behind her.

"You saw the First Hunt?"

"Pouncer!"

Before she could do more than try to reach out for her errant brother, Gabriel dropped to one knee to gaze into Pouncer's face.

"That rock and the Pouch were both used in the first Hunt that I witnessed. I retrieved the rock from where it had fallen and later that year I traded a larger Pouch for that one. The Hunt that I saw was probably not the first ever, simply the first that I am aware of. You are a bold one, am I correct in thinking that your name is Pouncer?"

"How did you know that?"

Gabriel's expression remained inscrutable but his eyes briefly danced.

"Your sister said it as she tried to pull you back to her."

Gabriel stood up and bowed slightly, his wings rippling slightly as he did so.

"I apologize for leaving so soon, but I have tasks I must complete. Surestrike, do not worry about the first time we met, it is a very common reaction and I do not hold it against you. It has been a pleasure to meet you both, perhaps our paths will cross again."

A catman approached and whispered into Gabriel's ear. As Gabriel turned and nodded, Surestrike noted the braided-copper wire headband with feather which indicated that the wearer was one of the Wingtalkers tasked with maintaining and running public buildings. Gabriel nodded again and replied in a low voice, a reply which sent the catman scurrying away. He gazed after him for a moment and then turned back.

"Surestrike, Pouncer, I must bid you both farewell for now. Be well."

They watched as he strode away, his movements flowing and graceful. The other patrons of the History-Building had also watched in amazed silence and after Gabriel vanished through a small door, the silence seemed to take on a new weight until Pouncer's voice shattered it.

"Wow! That was amazing! Strike, when I grow up, I'm going to be a Wingtalker!"

Surestrike smothered a laugh.

"You may be good enough to be one, little brother. I think He'll remember you for a long time."

"I wonder where He was going?"

"Probably the main hall. If we hurry, we can get to the upper gallery and watch."

.

The gallery was more full than usual, but there was enough space for Surestrike and Pouncer to reach the railing. At regular intervals along the railing, Enforcers stood, armed with staffs and cudgels. Below, Protectors guarded the doors with bared blades.

"Strike," whispered Pouncer. "Is that our Council-leader?"

Surestrike followed his gaze.

"Yes. Those with her are the members of the Council, all eight of them."

"Healers, Builders, Hunters, Protectors, Enforcers, Farmers, Scholars and Priests." recited Pouncer. "Who are the others?"

Surestrike looked at the others ranged round the table and frowned in concentration. Some of them wore outfits of styles and materials that she had never seen before while others were just recognizable enough to tease her memory. She closed her eyes to concentrate and then suddenly remembered.

"I think that they're ambassadors from the neighboring states. That one in the black straps is from the Grassplains, they tried to conquer us fifty years ago. Our Protectors drove them off with minimal losses among our side, and heavy among theirs. The one in the loose-sleeved top is from the Snowlands. I don't know the others."

The conversation below suddenly cut off and all the participants and most of the audience turned to face the main doors. An instant later, they opened and Gabriel stepped through, flanked by a pair of Wingtalkers, their plain-fabric headbands marking them as personal aides to Gabriel. They waited by the door as Gabriel strode forwards and halted at the end of the open-rectangular table.

"Council Leader, Councillors, Ambassadors. Please forgive me for interrupting your deliberations."

Council Leader Ironsoul stood and inclined her head.

"The words of the Winged One are always welcomed. The Council greets you, Guardian Gabriel."

Gabriel bowed to acknowledge the courtesy and then flexed his wings slightly.

"I must apologize for being the bearer of bad tidings but there has been an earthquake in the Snowlands."

The Snowland ambassador frowned.

"It occurred about two hours ago. The echoes could not be heard by anyone here but my Wingtalkers have installed a network of geological sensors and kept them active. For those unfamiliar with the term, think of them as magical bells that ring whenever the ground shakes. The pattern of the ringing tells us which direction the shaking came from, the timing tells us the distance. The quake took place in the northern region of the Snowlands, near the City of Ice. A small team of my Wingtalkers are already on their way to there, they will report on the damage and what aid is needed. I myself will head out there within the next three days to try to help unless the ambassador wishes to object."

The Snowland ambassador stared at him in near-shock and then spoke.

"Guardian Gabriel, we of the Snowlands acknowledge you are indeed old and have much knowledge that we are ourselves unable to understand."

"For now." interjected Gabriel.

"For now." confirmed the ambassador. "We acknowledge that your Wingtalkers have held themselves apart from the politics of the Mountain City and the politics between countries, except to ask for an end to war and conflict. With your magic, they can pass messages across entire lands. I must therefore ask you to let me use your far-speaking spells to let me consult with my government."

Gabriel nodded.

"My wingtalkers will relay your words and those of your government if you will finally trust us. Several of the other ambassadors already use our services for things they feel are time-critical and we have protected their confidences as we will protect yours. If you wish, I myself will relay your words after this meeting is ended."

The ambassador nodded and sat down. Gabriel bowed and left the room.

"That was incredible!" whispered Pouncer. Surestrike nodded slowly and waited a moment before commenting.

"I knew He had knowledge he had yet to give us, but magical bells that detect far-off quakes? That's a new one to me."

.

"What are the four types of knowledge?"

Surestrike looked up from where she was fixing arrowheads to their shafts.

"The four types of knowledge? Why do you want to know?"

Pouncer glared at the sheet in front of him.

"There's a reference here to the four types of knowledge and how a wise person understands them, but what are they?"

"That's easy." replied Surestrike. "The four types of knowledge are the things that we know that we know, the things we do not know that we know, the things we know we do not know and the things we do not know that we do not know."

Pouncer stared at her, the angle of his ears indicating total confusion.

"Let's go through them again. First, the things that we know that we know. Something you have learned and know you have learned."

Before she could continue, Pouncer nodded with sudden understanding.

"I got it, Strike. The second is things we know but do not realize, the third is things we know we don't understand and the last is stuff we simply do not know about."

Surestrike transferred her attention back to fixing the arrowheads as Pouncer made a note in his exercise pad.

"Why are they the four types of knowledge?"

Surestrike sighed.

"Because there are two variables in the description and thus four outcomes."

Pouncer returned to his work and silence settled for a few moments.

"Does the Ancient One know everything?"

Surestrike closed her eyes as she tried to remember the lessons she had learned years before.

"He knows much more than we do but He does not know everything. His knowledge comes from another age and a land beyond the stars in the sky, He has sworn to try and help us to discover the knowledge for ourselves."

"Why not just tell us?"

"Because if we are simply told, we will have no reason to search beyond the limits of what we are told but if we are guided to discovering it ourselves, we will get into the habit of questioning and exploring, eventually taking us past the knowledge He has and giving us a better understanding of the world and the stars. Already we have geothermal power, powered vehicles, electrical communications and artificial lights, just a few random examples"

Pouncer looked up from his pad.

"The Ancient One has given us knowledge without our having to discover it for ourselves before."

Surestrike nodded.

"Yes, but the only times He has done so were times when the information was needed urgently to avoid great peril, such as the Great Plague that swept across all the countries or the Giant Wave that swept the western shore bare of life. Those were things we could not have prepared for at the time and which would have caused great suffering."

Pouncer nodded and then put down his writing stick.

"Strike, can you tell me about the Hunt?"

Surestrike started to place the finished arrows in their quiver.

"I assume you mean more than the basics."

"Yes. Teams of five, chosen randomly with the task of hunting one of the megahamsters."

"Well, it's more than that. The teams may be made of those who hate each other or have simply never met before, to succeed, they have to work together. Occasionally a team may eject one of its own and although that makes it harder for the remaining members to complete their Hunt, it is almost impossible for the loner to do. Not impossible, seven have managed, but very, very difficult. The weapons you use must be made on the day you leave the city, the day before you try to take down one of the megahamsters. Your only equipment is a steel knife and enough food and water to last two days, any other weapons you must make. I used a flint axe and several flint spears. If you succeed and manage to return with the megahamster, you can choose your new name and have it publicly acknowledged."

"And if I fail?"

Surestrike looked up from arranging the arrows.

"Then you remain Pouncer."

.

Pouncer stood alone outside the city, watching the other members of the team he had (briefly) been assigned to walk off. For a moment he considered simply returning to the city but his stubbornness took over. Although he had not foreseen that he would be assigned to the same team as two of the biggest bullies of the year, the two whom he had managed to get into trouble for their actions, as soon as he found out, he had known that they would somehow try to act against him.

He took a deep breath and strode away from the city, his spine straight with pride he did not feel and the beginnings of despair started to gnaw at his mind. As a single Hunter, it would be hard for him to take down a megahamster, even the smallest were easily ten times his size and only truly vulnerable to teamwork tactics, tactics now denied him due to the petty spite of others.

As he entered the forest, Pouncer suddenly stopped, a plan sprang into his mind. The skull of a megahamster had a weak point near the back, a knife driven through would kill it instantly and he still had his steel knife. All he needed to do was to get on top of the megahamster and the sight of a long, straight branch suggested a way. Pouncer pulled out his knife and started to slice at the point where the branch joined the trunk. Although the knife would need re-sharpening afterwards, he was confident he could kill a megahamster. After that, he would have to find a way to get it back to the city alone, but that was a problem for later.

.

The sun rose, casting its light through the undergrowth at the edge of the forest as a series of lances. One of the beams hit Pouncer in the face, waking him from his uneasy sleep. Stretching, he glanced through the leaves and caught his breath at the sight of the herd of megahamsters entering the valley. Careful to stay hidden, Pouncer moved towards the oncoming herd, positioning himself ready for his attack. As he did so, one of the megahamsters growled, a growl echoed by several others.

Pouncer froze, hoping that they had not seen of scented him, but their attention was further down the valley, where the lake was. Pouncer waited for the herd to start to pass before getting a good grip on the end of the branch. Holding it firmly, he burst out of the forest and charged towards the biggest megahamster, ignoring the startled reactions of the others. The targeted prey started to turn in preparation for biting and breaking what it perceived as a spear but Pouncer instead slammed the end down into the grass and leapt, allowing the branch to carry him up and over in a perfect arc, landing on the back of the megahamster. As his fingers grabbed hold, the 'hamster went wild and started to charge towards the lake. As the water loomed, Pouncer caught a glimpse of the four other Hunters ahead of him, paralyzed by the sight of the rampaging beast. A series of thuds announced the sudden (temporary) acquisition of flight by the other Hunters, flight that ended unceremoniously in the lake.

As if scared by the splashes, the megahamster turned and raced onwards, crashing through the forest. Fighting the impacts of the branches which threatened to knock him off, Pouncer crawled slowly forwards to the frontal shoulders of the megahamster, then got a good grip with his hand-feet while he pulled out his knife and thrust it with all his strength. The knife resisted for an instant, then sank deep and the 'hamster collapsed, its abrupt stop sending Pouncer through the air. Landing in a rolling tumble, Pouncer stood up and found himself staring up at the wall of the Mountain city, close enough that he could reach out and touch it. For an instant that seemed like an hour, he stood staring at the crowded wall and then a massive cheer started and seemed to continue for ages before quieting enough to let him hear a familiar voice.

"Congratulations, Hunter. That was the most amazing Hunt I have ever witnessed."

Pouncer turned and found himself facing Gabriel.

"When the others cast you out, I thought that you would fail, but you have instead succeeded beyond anyone's wildest imaginations."

Pouncer bowed.

"Thank you, Ancient One. What news about the others?"

"The ones who cast you out, by the time they managed to get out of the lake and retrieve their weapons, the megahamsters had drunk their fill and were moving back up the valley. Their attempt to give chase stampeded the megahamsters and they failed."

"I was riding the one that knocked them into the lake."

"I know. Their actions led to their defeat, they will not take new names. Have you chosen your new name?"

Pouncer stared at Gabriel, his mind working faster than it had ever worked before. A new name, one that would reflect what he had done and what he wished to do, a new name that he would be known as. A sudden thought arose unbidden and he felt a smile stretch across his face.

"Steelblade."

Gabriel nodded slowly.

"A good name, young Hunter. This may not mean much to you, but I approve. Congratulations, Hunter Steelblade, may your Hunts be as profitable as this one."

Gabriel paused and glanced towards the distant gate and the celebrating crowd approaching from it.

"I will leave you now, Hunter Steelblade, and will see you at the Naming Ceremony under the gaze of the Moon-Eye. Congratulations."

As Pouncer tried to find an answer, Gabriel leapt into the air and flew off. An instant later, the oncoming mob enveloped him and his prey with cheers and celebratory hand-clasps. An instant later, he felt himself lifted onto the shoulders of two guards and carried in triumph to the main gate, his catch dragged behind by many willing hands. As he passed through the main gate, he glanced back and caught a glimpse of four dejected shapes coming out of the forest.

* * *

.

The light of the full moon shone brightly through the shaped window in the monolith, the light shining through the ancient lens to form the shape of an eye on the wall above the platform. Although Pouncer was concentrating on keeping his poise before the large crowd, he knew that above him, perched on the edge of the wall immediately above the Moon-Eye, Gabriel looked down on the Hunters who were taking their new names. The cheers washed over him as each of the other Hunters stepped forwards and recited the speech that tradition required that they make prior to taking their new names. Eventually his turn came and he stepped up onto the dais, stepping into the light of the Moon-Eye. Taking a deep breath, he started the traditional speech.

"I come into the gaze of the Moon as Pouncer, son of Farrunner and Longwatch. Under the eye of the Great Hunter, I shed the name Pouncer and take my new name, Steelblade, son of Farrunner and Longwatch. As Steelblade, I pledge my skills to protect and succor those of the Mountain City and its allies."

The silence was almost palpable and the newly-declared Steelblade took another breath as he prepared to say the sentence that tradition required be created by each Hunter to express a truth in which they believed, a sentence he had struggled over for several days, even seeking advice from Gabriel when the feeling he wanted failed to translate into words. He paused and looked up into the moonlight, letting peace flow through him.

"If my claws do not guard your back, whose will guard mine?"

The silence deepened for an instant and then Steelblade, as tradition dictated, roared at the moon to demonstrate he was ready to take full responsibility for his actions from that point onwards. His first roar echoed alone, his second was drowned in the roar of the watchers, a roar that echoed across the city. As silence descended again, he heard Gabriel's amused voice, pitched so that only he could hear it.

"Congratulations, Steelblade. Very good, worthy of legend. Now get down and let the next one have her turn."

Hiding a grin at the irreverence Gabriel displayed, Steelblade descended from the dais and resumed his original position.

.

Steelblade and Surestrike loped easily down the cleared path, their true-feet and hand-feet kicking up clouds of dust as they crested the hill. They paused briefly to take in the sight of the Mountain City, located on the slope of the mountain below the Cave of the Ancient and Surestrike half-turned.

"Last time I was here, I ended up falling almost halfway down the hill."

Steelblade looked round, his eyes bright.

"This is where you first met Gabriel?"

"Yes. I'd seen Him at a distance and he always attends the Naming Ceremonies, but here was the first time I ever truly spoke to Him."

Steelblade stared at the path for a few more moments before sighing.

"Why the sigh? You've spoken to Him at least as many times as I have."

"He's spoken to me four times. The museum, just after the Hunt, when I asked for his help in verbalizing my feelings for the ceremony and at the ceremony itself."

Surestrike stared at her brother in astonishment.

"The ceremony? What did he say?"

"That I'd done well and should move so the next Hunter could take her turn."

Surestrike managed to fight down a fit of giggling.

"I'd heard that He tended not to stand on ceremony, but this is the first time someone's given me proof. Well, He is over two thousand years old, so I suppose that He has earned the ability to say whatever He wants, however He wants to."

Steelblade nodded.

"I agree. He can do whatever He wants."

"And do you still want to be one of His Wingtalkers?"

"Yeah. I don't care if I don't become a legendary Hunter or anything like that, I want to be a Wingtalker. Besides, now that I've got my adult Name by taking down a megahamster by myself, I'm sure that the Ancient One will remember me when I apply tomorrow."

Surestrike looked at her brother with respect as they resumed their journey back towards the Mountain City.

"You are still set on that trail, aren't you. Well, I'll be there to cheer you on when you get the Feather. What type of Band are you aiming for? Gold, Silver, Steel?"

"No. Linen."

"Gabriel's personal aides? The Wingspeakers? You set your sights very high, brother-mine."

"Well, if you aim high, the rock may miss the target but it won't land on your toes. If I aim high, I have a chance. Aim low, no chance."

Surestrike nodded.

"Well, you took down a megahamster, I'm sure you will become one of the greatest Wingspeakers ever."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Three**

_Eighteenth Century after The Return._

The statue was still as embarrassing as Gabriel remembered. Created by the greatest sculptor on Felar, it stood almost six meters high, three times the height of the one it was patterned after. To add to the sheer majesty of the spectacle, it was located on a six-meter high marble-clad pillar located in the exact center of an artificial circular lake, itself bordered in more marble.

Gabriel allowed his gaze to rise again to the statue, remembering the shock he had felt when he had visited the City of Ice fifteen years after his previous visit at the head of a relief mission, only to find that it had renamed itself Wing City and, on the basis of a unanimous vote, chosen to declare independence from the Snowlands in favor of total neutrality to all except Gabriel and his Wingtalkers. Gabriel still remembered the way his then-newly appointed aide, Steelblade, had simply smiled innocently at him as the City Council declared their total fealty to him and the Wingtalkers. Although he had been unable to talk them out of their decision, he had managed to "simply" accept the inhabitants of Wing City as fully-fledged Wingtalkers, even though doing so had effectively wiped out his then-stock of stored molted-feathers.

"Copper for your thoughts."

Gabriel half-turned and smiled at the ancient catman on the wheeled chair which a recruit had pushed to beside him.

"I'm sure you already know them, Steelblade."

Steelblade squinted at him with his remaining eye and smiled, showing all three of his remaining fangs.

"Let's see. You still feel embarrassed by that statue of you, there's currently no real emergency for you to attend to and you thought that it was time that you came to see how your second-favorite city was doing."

The recruit looked almost horrified at Steelblade's lese-majesty but Gabriel simply laughed.

"Correct again, my old friend."

"Hah! I'm still a young whippersnapper compared to you, Ancient One. I may be a hundred years old, but you're at least _twenty_ times that. Since you are still around, I intend to remain here to tweak your feathers for another century still to come."

Gabriel mentally noted that the recruit was obviously trying to decide between remaining perfectly still in the hope of not being noticed or simply running to escape the possible explosion.

"If anyone can manage that, you can. How's the family?"

Steelblade grinned again.

"I got to see my first great-great grandchild a month ago. She's got a small patch of white on her forehead, so her mother named her Star. It's too early to tell, but she may yet prove good enough to be a full Wingspeaker like I was until I got too dammed old."

Gabriel turned his gaze back to the statue.

"Is Wing City still holding to my Path?"

"Yes. All are welcome as long as they don't mean any harm and we are willing to help them train to be Wingtalkers."

"And how many of the local-born do not wish to become Wingtalkers?" asked Gabriel softly. For a moment, silence seemed to descend, broken by the noise of a suppressed chuckle.

"Be sensible, Ancient One. All the Wingchildren grow up wanting to be Wingtalkers. Not because we try to force them to be, but because we teach them all that you want them to learn and then take them on tours to other lands to see how we make a difference. They come back knowing what we do, as well as the price that may be asked, but they still want to join. They know that Wingtalkers are respected and that we act for others first. That sort of thing appeals to them, who wouldn't turn down a chance to make the world a better place."

"But so many have died."

Steelblade's paw slapped Gabriel on the wrist.

"We knew what we were getting into when we asked to join. We tell the children the risks, the terrors and the enemies they will face should they join. We train them in maths, reading and writing, wilderness survival, combat and many other skills that they may need. We train the elite anti-terrorist squadrons of all nations and help them to evaluate and share intel. We are a force for good, no matter what those fanatics from the Grassplains say. They're just irritated that we managed to bring all the other lands into an alliance to halt their world-conquest scheme thirty years ago.  
"You know that most of the terrorists and so-called freedom fighters who denounce you are actually Grassplain agents. You may be their focus, but they are the ones who chose their course, so stop feeling sorry for yourself or I'll get out of this chair and kick your feathered butt until you agree I'm right!"

Gabriel couldn't contain the grin that spread across his face as he turned back to his oldest living friend.

"Understood, old friend. Anything else?"

"Yes, but not to you. Fleetfoot, I've known the Winged One for over nine decades. In that time, I've earned the right to talk to him this way and although it may not sound like it, I truly respect him. However, he needs at least one person who knows all his secrets and for now, I'm one of the few with that burden."

The catman who had wheeled Steelblade's chair to by Gabriel nodded.

"Good. Now make yourself useful and get me back to my desk. The dammned paperwork has probably started to overflow again."

Gabriel watched fondly as Fleetfoot wheeled Steelblade back to the building from which they had emerged and then, despite himself, turned to face the statue again.

It was still incredibly embarrassing.

.

Gabriel entered the long hall and strode down past the clerks desks to the largest desk at the far end where Steelblade squinted through a monacle at a sheet in front of him. The sussuration of comment echoed and Steelblade looked up and nodded.

"New recruits, Ancient One. Five from the Grassplains, currently waiting in the Hall of Memory."

Gabriel nodded slowly.

"Have they been offered hospitality?"

"First thing, Ancient One. In addition, I put Windtracker to watch over them. He's from the Grassplains, hopefully he's made them less tense. God knows how bad the rumors about us have got since that last group of terrorist proxies we took down."

"And yet they still continue to come."

At Steelblade's signal, one of the clerks wheeled him out from behind his desk and towards the doorway. Gabriel turned and paced alongside him.

"They continue to come because they fear those who rule them, Ancient One. Any who do not show enough deference or who question the commandments of the leaders are executed. Given the choice between certain death or possible death, which would you choose?"

Gabriel sighed and Steelblade glanced across at him as they passed into the main corridor.

"The fact that they still come here is a good thing, Ancient One. Tales of what we really are still circulate, despite the Grassplain leaders attempts to paint us as cannibalist barbarians. When no more come, we will know that all hope is lost."

"I suppose you are right, my old friend. Nevertheless, it saddens me to be hated so much, even if it only by so few."

.

The door opened and the six catmen in the room turned to face it. A split-second later, one of them bowed and when he straightened up, his face was alight with joy.

"Ancient One, it is a great honor to see you again."

"And you, Windtracker. How is your courtship going?"

Steelblade snorted and spoke up before Windtracker had a chance to reply.

"He's proposed already, Gabriel. Soon, this kitten will be calling me great-grandfather. At this rate, I'll be related to half the city by the time I die."

The other five catmen stared at Steelblade in shock before darting worried glances at Gabriel.

"Steelblade, stop grousing. You know that Windtracker is good enough for Skyseeker, so give the youngster a chance. Windtracker, will you please introduce me to these visitors?"

"Of course, Ancient One. May I present Ashala kra Ch'shein. his sister K'shal kra Ch'shein, Addna kra Shri'kka, Akya no-clan and Obriaa kra Lhwe'kkawa."

As Windtracker spoke, each of the others bowed at their names. Gabriel walked forwards and stood before them.

"I greet you and bid you welcome to Wing City. I do not know what tales you have been told by others about this place, the fact that you chose to come here means that you do not believe the bad and still trust in the good. It is my hope that you will find here that which reinforces that. Do any of you mind if Windtracker acts as your liaison and mentor until you can settle?"

The five looked at each other and then Akya nodded slightly.

"We have no problems with Windtracker, he is known to me from before he was forced to flee the plains and leave his old name behind."

As the other four nodded, Gabriel looked at Windtracker and raised one eyebrow.

"I was young, Akya was younger. We're cousins, my mother and his father were siblings. He was telling me what happened to make him leave his clan, his father was executed after disagreeing with the leader."

Gabriel turned to face Akya.

"I grieve for your loss and welcome you to my city. I assure you that we do not slay those who disagree with us, nor do we use torture or any other form of coercion. You are safe here and I hope you are successful in building a new life for yourself."

Akya bowed slightly and, when he straightened, a tear was visible in his eye.

"I thank you, Ancient One."

.

Gabriel stood near the entrance to the reproduction of his original cave, looking out to where the sun had vanished behind the distant mountains. Behind him, Obriaa knelt in a dejected pose, the shards of a shattered dagger in front of him. After several minutes, Gabriel turned back to face him.

"I expected the Grassplains would send one like you to kill me, but not that you would confess your mission and try to kill yourself. Why did they choose you, and why did you change your mind?"

Obriaa remained in his crouch and Gabriel knelt down in front of him, sliding one hand under his jaw and lifting it until their eyes met.

"I do not seek your death, Obriaa kra Lhwe'kkawa, I wish for you to live. However, I must understand. Please, answer my questions."

Silence seemed to descend again, then Gabriel stood and, with one arm, pulled Obriaa to his feet.

"Why?"

Gabriel looked at him, then smiled sadly.

"Why? That's several questions. Why did I not strike you down? Why did I prevent you taking your life? Why do I not denounce you? Are those what you wish to ask of me?"

At Obriaa's jerky nod, Gabriel stepped back, not breaking eye contact.

"Very well. Why did I not strike you down? Because you cannot kill me. I have lived through wounds that would have ended any other being. You had no hope of killing me with your knife, so I had no need to strike at you.  
"Why did I prevent you taking your life? Because you proved yourself to be honorable and true, choosing to admit to me what the leaders of the Grassplain tried to force you to do. There are few who truly live so honorably.  
"Why do I not denounce you? Why should I? Despite whatever threats or promises were used to turn you into an assassin, you chose to do the right thing, showing that you are a true and moral person. Does that answer your questions? If so, please answer mine."

Obriaa nodded slowly, then took a jagged breath.

"My mother… the clan-chiefs threatened to do… bad things if I did not do what they wanted. They wanted… they wanted you dead… for your actions in stopping their conquests and raids. I thought that if I died, word would get back… they would think I tried and you…"

Gabriel placed a gentle hand on his upper-shoulder.

"I have agents among the tribes of the Grassplains. I will personally oversee your mother's rescue."

Obriaa stared at him then dropped to his knees and lowered his head.

"By the customs of my clan, the Lhwe'kkawa, I place my life in your grasp from now on. My death will come at your command."

Gabriel stared at him, then pulled him back to his feet again.

"We can discuss this later. For now, come with me and tell me how to locate your mother."

.

Steelblade sat on his wheeled chair on the balcony of the hall, looking down as a pair of Wingscouts entered, carrying between them an aged female who was clad in a robe slightly too large for her emaciated frame and a fur cloak which draped almost to the floor. A slight movement alerted him to Gabriel standing by his side.

"Is that who I think it is?"

"The mother of Obriaa kra Lhwe'kkawa. Rescued from a cell the day before she was to be executed, smuggled off the Grassplains and brought here on the shadowtrail."

Steelblade glanced up at Gabriel.

"You did all that without bringing me into it? Why?"

Gabriel looked down at him. Meeting his gaze, Steelblade noted the worry and respect in his eyes.

"You are, in so many ways, my oldest advisor and friend. However, I promised Obriaa that I would see to this personally, and I must keep my word."

"That is not the only reason, is it."

Gabriel glanced back down into the hall, where Obriaa had finished embracing his mother and had taken over from one of the Wingscouts who had been carrying her.

"No, old friend. We both know that you are coming near the end of your days here. The medicines I concoct for you are not working as well as they did. Your health is decreasing and I have noted that you are delegating more than you ever have before. I did not wish to add another burden on you and risk shortening our friendship."

Steelblade nodded slowly.

"Thank you. Not to sound too defeatist, but have you decided how I will be remembered?"

Gabriel nodded.

"That is another task I have taken upon myself. I have arranged for stones to be carved for all the Wingspeakers who have served me in the past, and I will personally lay them in place around the lake, so all who see that statue will see the sacrifices that I have seen, the loyalty of those who have chosen to serve me. Although I hope it will be a long time coming, when the day does arrive, a tablet will be placed for you as well."

Steelblade leaned back in his padded chair and half-closed his eye.

"Well, I hope that it takes a while as well. Anyway, can you summon a youngster? I need to get back to my quarters, my eldest grandson needs my advice."

Gabriel smiled and moved to behind the chair. Steelblade's eye slammed open as the chair began to move.

"Gabriel! I didn't mean for you to shove me around! A youngster would have…"

"Hush." commanded Gabriel. "It's my choice, old friend. You have done so much more for me than I have ever done for you, it seems only fair that I should aid you now."

Steelblade shook his head and relaxed back into the cushions of the chair.

.

The stonemason's apprentice carefully maneuvered the padded barrow around Steelblade's wheeled chair and trundled it to where Gabriel was carefully placing the last of the previous stones. Gabriel stood and lifted the topmost stone, carefully placing it into the hollow prepared for it. Once the stone was in place, Gabriel placed his hand lightly on the top and lowered his head while the apprentice withdrew.

"Longshaft, I place this stone in your memory. Your time on this world ended too soon, but in my heart you still burn brightly. May this stone act to ensure that all know of your sacrifice."

The apprentice paused by Steelblade, glancing back at Gabriel, who was still kneeling by the stone, his head bowed in memory.

"How long has he…"

"Been setting the stones and remembering those he once commanded? Two days straight. Every stone placed by his hand, each one accompanied by a speech like the one you just heard, every Wingspeaker still alive in his heart. Even I never knew the depth of pain he lives with, the friends that he once had and lost to time. One day, probably soon, he will place a stone for me as well."

The apprentice glanced at Gabriel again as the winged man rose and reached for the next stone.

"My master sent a message, that those are the last of the stones except for the one that Gabriel personally drew the inscription for. My Master asks what the inscription means, if he is allowed to know."

Steelblade accepted the proffered piece of paper and looked at the alien symbols neatly aligned on it. After several seconds, he looked up at the apprentice.

"This is the same as those, remembering one who is gone. However, the one remembered here died so that Gabriel could live, many centuries before even the first Wingtalker."

The apprentice stared at him, then half-spun to watch Gabriel again.

"Yes." said Steelblade quietly. "I would not trade my life for his, but I would gladly give of myself to take some of the pain he has carried for centuries."

"Where will the final stone go?"

"Directly in front of Gabriel's statue. Where else could it go?"

The apprentice nodded and then left, leaving Steelblade to watch as Gabriel carefully placed another stone, kneeling in front of it as he remembered the one it represented. As Gabriel took the last stone from the barrow and placed it, he sighed.

"Well, Ancient One." he half-whispered. "We have come so far together and you will go still further without me. Soon, you will place a stone for me as well."

Gabriel rose from the final stone and turned.

"Not for a while, old friend."

Steelblade looked up at him, then smiled crookedly.

"I'm getting old and maudlin. I forgot just how good your hearing is."

Gabriel walked to behind Steelblade's chair and turned it towards the main building.

"Almost time to get back to work, old friend. Thank you for keeping me company."

"Anytime, Ancient One. Any…"

Steelblade's voice faded and Gabriel stopped, his expression concerned. Releasing the handles, he dashed round, dropping to one knee by Steelblade's side.

"'Blade? Blade!"

Steelblade took in a slow breath and his eye fixed on Gabriel before closing.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel. Looks like you _do_ have one more stone to…"

Gabriel grabbed Steelblade's upper arm, then he closed his eyes and let a tear trickle down his cheek. Standing up, he carefully lifted the body of his oldest friend out of the wheeled chair, cradling it in his arms. Straightening, he turned and walked forwards. Entering the Great Hall, he strode down towards the end, ignoring the spreading silence as the catmen in the hall realized what had happened. Reaching the altar, he carefully laid Steelblade on the stone surface before stepping back and kneeling, lowering his head. As a rising murmur of noise announced that word of Steelblade's death was spreading, Gabriel spoke the words that he had spoken over every one of his Wingspeakers.

"Wingspeaker Steelblade, although you are gone, you will remain forever in my heart. May your soul travel to the great fields beyond the skies, to run alongside the Hunter in the Eternal Hunt. You are gone, but your legacy remains."

Unnoticed by Gabriel, but watched by several of the growing crowd, a pair of his tears landed on the stone floor of the hall.

.

"Ancient One?"

Gabriel looked up from the pile of paperwork, then rose to greet the one approaching him.

"Trueblade. How may I help you?"

Trueblade stopped in front of the desk and placed all four of her hands on her hips, fixing Gabriel with a gimlet stare as she loomed over him.

"Wrong question, Ancient One. With Grandfather gone, I'm the Wingspeaker with the longest term of service. That means that _I'm_ now responsible for getting you to look after yourself. You've been hiding in the paperwork for the better part of a week, it's time for you to get back into the light and before you complain, I've got ten of the best clerks here ready to take over. Now come on!"

Before Gabriel could gather his wits, Trueblade walked round the desk, grabbed his arm and began pulling him towards the doorway.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Trueblade motioned for the group of clerks to enter the hall as she answered.

"Grandfather taught me that you need considerable looking after. I'm going to get you to have a wash and a meal, then a good night's sleep, even if I have to hit you with a hammer to get you to lie down."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Damn right." answered Trueblade. "Now, are you still resisting, or will you surrender to the inevitable?"

"You sound too much like your grandsire." sighed Gabriel. "Alright, you win. Release me, I'm coming."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Four**

_Twenty-fourth century after The Return._

.

The starfield above the planet Felar vanished into the blue-red blur of Hyperlight as the starship Steelblade, personal transport of Planetary Guardian Gabriel, accelerated far beyond the light barrier. On the bridge, Gabriel watched the display and then returned his attention to the display-pad he held in his hand. One finger caressed a control and an image appeared above the Pad, an image of a starship not of catman design or construction. Gabriel gazed at the image for a few seconds and then turned to face his aide, Huntress, whose six-times-great grandfather was celebrated by the naming of the starship.

"What do we know about this vessel?"

Huntress didn't even pause to look at the Pad that she held.

"Structural analysis indicates lack of internal artificial-grav generation capability, however the ship contains no less than six counter-rotating cylinders arranged round a central core. Energy emissions indicate nuclear-fusion reactor with a magnetic scoop located at the front of the vessel to collect interstellar hydrogen. Primary thrust seems to be hydrogen-based reaction thruster which also allows for the ejection of the fusion products. Based on the way the vessel is decelerating, it accelerates in normal-space and then transfers to Hyperlight via a translation field. Since reaction-drives are useless in Hyperlight, it must simply coast until it uses the field to drop back to n-space whereupon it decelerates using the main thrusters. Current analysis shows deceleration holding at 1.65 Felar-gravities, it will enter stable orbit around Newland in approximately seventeen hours assuming constant deceleration."

Gabriel nodded and glanced to the data-display which showed that it would take another twenty hours before the Steelblade exited Hyperlight.

"They'll have at least three hours in orbit before we can arrive. I want all combat systems checked and prepped before we go sublight. Have the tac-teams examine all data relayed to us concerning this new craft, I want to know everything that can be deduced about it and any speculation about its capabilities. We'll be the first ship there, I want us to be prepared for anything from peaceful First Contact to a vengeance mission."

Huntress nodded and moved to her duty station. Gabriel glared at the projected image hovering above the Pad.

"Who the hell are you?"

.

Steelblade erupted out of Hyperlight in the blaze of light that marked a high-angle velocity-transfer designed to keep normal-space velocity as high as possible. Flashing into the system at over .5c, the ship decelerated almost to zero within a five-minute period, a feat unimaginable before the creation of acceleration-dampers and superstring-drive systems. The rapid deceleration halted it a bare three kilometres away from the unknown ship, its shields sparking as the orbital debris vaporized on impact.

"Comm, planetary status?"

The catman at the communications desk listened intently to his earpiece while scanning the text scrolling up his screen.

"Planetary HQ reports no atmospheric insertion. Communications currently consist of mathematical concepts such as multiplication tables and prime numbers. Binary protocols for transmissions. Partial communication data intercepted between unknown vessel and several shuttles it sent to orbit the planet, probably mapping runs. Intercept-data being uploaded."

Gabriel looked at the main screen on which the ship hung, lights flashing in a regular pattern.

"Can we intercept any data ourselves?"

"Already on it sir, data is being intercepted. Decrypt have it but they say that without the aliens language, it will be hard to decrypt. Hold one, sir, they have what sounds like an audio decrypt from one of its parasite-vessels. Permission to play it?"

Gabriel nodded and the communications officer tapped several controls on his board. A moment passed and then the bridge speakers burst into life.

_"..ig bastard, wonder how it pulled that maneuver. Radar confirms its location but EM readings are glitched. Judging from the sparks, it's got a shield of some kind. Do we go closer?"_

_"Negative, shuttle two. Do not go closer. Keep a distance of at least two thousand klicks from unknown ship."_

_"Roger that, Daedalus. We'll kee…"_

At Gabriel's hand-signal, the comm-officer killed the feed. Several seconds of almost-painful silence passed and then Huntress spoke.

"Ancient One, that sounded like the language of the Humans. Could it be them?"

Gabriel shook his head.

"Unlikely. When the Incident sent me from their world three thousand years ago, they were starting to reach beyond their solar system. For the last two-thousand years, I've been waiting for them to reach Felar, the fact that they haven't indicated that something stopped them, I thought it was civil war or something like that. For their English to be this close to that which I knew after three millennia…"

"But what other explanation is there?"

"I don't know."

"Do we make contact with them?"

The silence rang across the Bridge and then Gabriel spoke with an uncertainty in his voice that no-one had heard before.

"I… I don't know…"

.

The space-suited figure stepped out of the long ship and triggered its external thrusters, aiming at the open airlock door on the Steelblade. Gabriel watched it approach on the viewscreen, noting that its shape, size and proportions all seemed to conform to human norms.

"Good idea of yours to use the external visual imagers to request they send over one person, Ancient One. We were able to give them the message we wanted to without them realizing we knew their speech."

Gabriel nodded at Huntress' comment and then looked up at her.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Huntress?"

Huntress smiled.

"We have the split-chamber fully prepared. The old information in the databanks told us what air-setup Humans prefer, oxygen slightly lower, carbon dioxide slightly higher. No problems. I go in one side, the Human in the other and you monitor remotely. I don't see any reason to be concerned."

On the screen, the being had reached the airlock and tried to swing inside. A suited catman inside the hatch caught it before it could fall due to the artifical gravity and set it on its feet.

"Well, time to get going."

.

Huntress watched as the suited being stepped into the other portion of the split-chamber. It seemed to study her and then turned its attention to the atmosphere-display mounted on the wall. Moving closer, it studied the display for almost a minute and then tapped slightly above the oxygen-bar. The bar promptly lengthened slightly and the hiss of air-nozzles was briefly heard. The being stepped back, consulted a device attached to its arm and then reached up and slowly disengaged its odd fabric-and-plastic helmet. As it lifted it off, Huntress found herself holding her breath, then releasing it with a sigh as she pressed the intercomm switch.

"Ancient One, false alarm. The skin color is wrong."

"No, the skin color is within parameters. That _is_ a human."

Huntress released the switch and looked up at the dark-skinned being in shock. The being returned her stare and then stepped closer to the dividing screen.

"Hello."

"Hello yourself." replied Huntress. "I am Huntress, Captain of the Steelblade. Who are you and what position do you hold?"

The human stared at her, his eyes almost circular.

"You speak English?"

"Of course. You haven't answered my question."

"Uh, sorry. Umm, this is… unexpected. My name is Theodore Phillips, communications/diplomatic officer of the starship Daedalus. How do you speak my language?"

Huntress hid a smile at the opening offered.

"Verbally, of course. Do you do it differently?"

Theodore looked blank for a moment.

"That's not what I meant."

Huntress shrugged all four shoulders.

"Are you clothed under that space-garb? Good, then shed that outer layer and we'll run you through a decontamination cycle. Once done, I'll escort you to the Ancient One. Talk to Him and He'll decide what happens next."

.

Gabriel rose from the seat at the end of the conference table as Huntress escorted Theodore in. As Theodore stared at Gabriel, he slowly extended and refolded his wings before sitting down and indicating a second seat.

"Please be seated."

Theodore sat, an expression of shock on his face.

"You're an angel? How old are you?"

Gabriel smiled sadly.

"I am over three thousand of your years old."

Theodore reacted as if he'd been struck.

"Three millennia? I thought you were an Enhancile but if you're that old, you must be from a _true_ species. Two sentient species in one trip, and cohabiting ones at that? The xenologists will never believe this!"

Gabriel frowned.

"Enhancile? True speci… what year is it by your calendar?"

If Theodore was taken aback by the sudden intensity of Gabriel's question, he didn't show it.

"Twenty-one twenty-five, Judeo-christian calendar."

Gabriel stared blankly at him for almost a minute and then took a jagged breath.

"Temporal displacement. That's the only explanation. No wonder the star-files didn't make sense, I thought the data had been corrupted."

Theodore looked blankly at him but Huntress, who knew his history, worked it out almost as quickly as he had.

"You were displaced three millennia?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you know a scientist called Rose Marianna?"

"Sure. She's the one who created the three Enhanciles. She's on the ship now, why do you ask and how do you know her?"

"Huntress, take us in. We're docking. It's time for a re-union between Rose and myself. Theodore, please contact your captain."

.

The old lady in the powered chair looked up as the door opened. Framed in the door were the captain and the comm/diplomatic officer along with a far taller four-armed feline biped. The three of them entered and moved to clear the door and the breath caught in her throat at the sight of the being behind them.

"Gabriel?"

The armor-clad winged man stepped through the door and clenched his fists. His muscles flexed and diamond claws extended from his knuckles and elbows.

"Rose Marianna. You ordered and led the abduction, torture and death of one Alfred Worthington, whom you killed to create _me_ in Project Avenging Angel. You killed a family man to create a weapon of war. I have been waiting longer than you could believe for this moment."

Rose backed her chair away as Gabriel strode forwards, his face twisted into a mask of cold fury. The captain, his face shocked, tried to restrain him but a single sweep of one arm sent him flying across the room and off the wall. The slight delay was enough for Rose to back through the door to her inner lab and hit the close-button, slamming it shut almost in Gabriel's face. An instant later, metal screeched as Gabriel pulled the door out of its tracks and in a casual display of strength, tossed it aside so hard it sliced into a bulkhead for almost a third of its length.

"No, you don't understand! Let me explain!"

"The time for explanations was over when you abducted the man I was. You killed him to make an Avenging Angel, now the Angel will avenge him!"

Rose felt the wall of her lab at her back as Gabriel loomed above her.

"Unlike you, I am merciful. Your death will be swift."

"No!"

Gabriel managed to half-turn as the person who had shouted slammed into him. Two more people followed and Rose tried to shrink into her chair as chaos raged around her. Although the four in the room were moving almost too fast for her to follow, her spark of hope was dampened as the first of her would-be saviors was hurled against the far wall so hard that she collapsed in a mound of feathers and fabric. The second was knocked out by an elbow to his forehead while the third was dropped by a knee in the solar plexus, coming to rest by Rose's feet. Gabriel stared round and his expression grew even colder.

"How did you do that? They're all faster and stronger than you are!"

"I am not controlled by hypnotic commands and I have had three millennia to practice thanks to the Incident. I have tricks you cannot imagine and when you are dead, I will try to undo some of the mental damage you have inflicted on these three."

Gabriel raised his arm to strike, then paused as the winged girl by Rose's feet pulled herself up to shield Rose.

"I cannot let you do this."

"You cannot stop me, no matter what your programming says."

"What programming? What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?"

Gabriel glared at her, then at Rose.

"You got better at this, didn't you. Had you finished your project with me, I would have followed your orders but been aware of the hypnotic controls planted into my mind. That's what the files indicated. These three, they're not even aware of the programming in them, are they?"

"I didn't program them! Their enhancements were to save their lives!"

"As _mine_ were?"

Rose flinched at the hatred and sarcasm in that question but her protector used the pause to pull herself to her feet and face Gabriel.

"I cannot let you hurt my grandmother."

Gabriel stared at the winged woman.

"Who _are_ you?"

"I am Raphael Marianna. You have already met my fellow-Enhanciles, Michelle Henrath and Uriel Soreson, although I'm certain you don't care."

Gabriel stared at her, anger and shock warring for supremacy.

"Your grandmother had a man kidnapped and used as a test-subject simply because he turned down her offer of a one-night stand! Don't talk to me about not caring, think about the depths of evil required to do what she did!"

Raphael didn't drop her gaze.

"Everyone knows what she did to you, the truth leaked after you vanished. She was arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced to life in jail."

"Yet here she is."

Raphael sighed and closed her eyes briefly.

"There was an industrial accident before I was born, it affected all three of us since we were in our mothers wombs at the time. If not for my grandmother's skills, made possible by her work on you, we would have all died before the age of ten. It was only because of her skill and knowledge that allowed us to live as we are. We know the price paid for our lives, both by you and by us. We are sterile but will live for at least a millennia, long past our friends and family. Rose is still under imprisonment. Should she leave the Lab or her quarters for any reason, an implanted device in her skull will kill her. We can go where we please, she cannot."

"It is not enough!"

"It is, according to the law."

Gabriel turned to fix the speaker with a glare.

"Michelle, right? Be silent."

Without waiting for an response, he resumed glaring at Rose.

"Rose, you will answer one question and you will do so honestly. Integrated into my helmet is a device that tells me if someone is lying, so answer me this. Have you placed any form of mental coercion on any of these three?"

Rose lifted her head.

"No."

Gabriel glared at her, his claws sliding in and out of their sheaths as he inhaled and exhaled through clenched teeth. Rose returned his stare with one of apology and acceptance for whatever he decided to do.

"Aaargh!"

Gabriel spun round and stormed out of the half-ruined lab, slashing a chunk out of the doorframe and refusing to even glance at the other winged humans. Rose slumped in her chair, tears running down her cheeks.

"Grandmother?"

"I thought I had come to terms with the evil I did all those years ago." she whispered. "Now I know I haven't, but why did he not kill me? I killed the man he was, why am I still alive now?"

Raphael tried to comfort her, but had no reply.

* * *

.

The door opened and Raphael stepped through and stopped. Although the viewport showed a vast panorama of stars, it provided the only light in the room.

"Gabriel?"

Raphael looked round in confusion and Gabriel's voice spoke from the darkness.

"Lights, minimal."

Low-powered illumination gave texture to the darkness and Raphael saw the shape of Gabriel slumped on a chair, his head held in his hands.

"I… I came to talk."

Gabriel did not move.

"Please."

"I am not interested."

"I know why you hate her…"

Gabriel seemed to explode out of his chair.

"No! You do not know! You didn't have your _family_ torn away from you by her, you didn't have your _life_ ripped away and your body _tortured_ into a new shape! She saved your life but it was taking _mine_ that made it possible!"

He paused, every muscle quivering with suppressed emotion and then he lowered himself back onto his chair.

"Lights off."

The room faded into blackness and Gabriel spoke again.

"I can never forgive her for what she did, not to me but to my family. The data-banks on your ship told me my children are still alive, that I'm a grandfather, but that to them I'm dead. I am not the Alfred Worthington they remember. I'm Gabriel, the Winged One, the Ancient One, Advisor and Protector of the catmen. I am not who I was, I can never return. Now leave me."

The silence deepened until Raphael exited the room and stepped into the corridor where Huntress was waiting.

"He still depressed?"

Raphael leant against the wall and sighed.

"More than that. From what you've told me and what I just saw, it was a sense of honor and the possibility of justice that kept him going all this time. Now that he's no longer got the latter to support him, he's got only duty to keep him going and it may not be enough."

Huntress leaned against the opposite wall.

"When I realized you were the same species as Gabriel, I hoped that you could help Him get over this. He's been this way for over a week and we could really use His help in the treaty negotiations."

Raphael met Huntress' eyes levelly.

"I don't know what to do. Trying to bring him and his family together would be very traumatic for all of them and probably wouldn't do any good."

Raphael sighed and ran a hand through her head-feathers.

"Huntress, you seem, well, not less respectful to him, but somehow _closer_ to him than anyone else on this ship. Am I just imagining it, or is there something between you and him?"

Huntress met her eyes.

"I serve the Ancient One as His personal aide. The actual title for my job is Wingspeaker, there are usually seven of us at any one time. Whenever one of the positions becomes vacant, a vote is taken amongst all the Wingtalkers and the top twelve are interviewed by Gabriel before He makes His choice. The eleven who aren't chosen are asked to become the Wingscouts, the personal emissaries and messengers of Gabriel, a position more important, in its own way, than that of Wingspeaker. The Wingspeakers are each assigned to Gabriel personally for a year with the order of the cycle determined by seniority. My family has served Him for over six centuries, I'm the fifth in my line to be a Wingspeaker."

Raphael looked at the deck for a few seconds.

"Do you love him?"

"Of course."

Raphael's gaze snapped back to Huntress.

"Of course I love him, we all do. He helped my people to create civilization whilst minimizing environmental impact. He raised us from barbarism to a multistellar empire, all without seeking any power for himself. Even at His most powerful, He only directly controlled the resources of a single city-state and an organisation devoted to peace. All of Felar, and all our daughter-colonies, are fully aware of what we owe Him and that He wishes no repayment except for us to continue to learn for ourselves. How could we do anything but love Him for His actions?"

"And now?"

Huntress sighed.

"And now, many of us don't know what to think. We knew He was once a human, and as such, we were eager to join forces with you. However, word has now got around about Rose Marianna and what she did to Him all those years ago. We love Him and because we love Him, we worry. Should He choose to kill Himself, it would be the greatest possible disaster to befall our civilization."

Raphael shook her head.

"I think that if he was going to kill himself, he would have done so already. Perhaps it would be best to take him back to your homeworld. Once there, the presence of that which he has dedicated most of his life to may snap him back to normal."

"It's worth a try." Huntress admitted. "Since we were going to ask for a few humans to act as ambassadors, perhaps you would like to come along as well."

Raphael looked up and met Huntress' gaze.

"I would like that."

* * *

.

The statue rose above the smooth lake, its restored surface covered with a thin layer of artificial diamond, protecting it from the ravages of the weather. Raphael's gaze rose to the tall, winged figure, and she tried to restrain a smile. Huntress glanced across.

"That statue of Gabriel is over six centuries old, and has been restored twice. According to legend, He was embarrassed when He came face-to-column with it."

"I remember the day well. It was one more surprise in a series of surprises."

Both Raphael and Huntress turned in response to the unexpected voice behind them and Gabriel walked out of the gateway, coming to a halt by the edge of the lake.

"Steelblade knew about the statue before I did, he enjoyed my reaction. I am sure that even now, his spirit still smiles."

Gabriel lowered his gaze and then knelt on one knee, his hand reaching out to touch a raised, inscribed tabled set in one of the rings surrounding the lake. A single name and two dates inscribed the worn tablet and Gabriel stroked the former before standing again and letting his gaze drift along the lines of other, similarly-engraved tablets in the other rings.

"I placed his memorial here personally, as I did his daughter, his grandson and all the others who died in my service as my Wingspeakers. Each and every one that dies in my service causes another piece of my soul to be ripped away, but there is so much that still needs doing."

A deep silence descended for a while, and then Raphael leaned close to Huntress.

"I see over three _thousand_ stones here. How long…"

"Over twenty centuries He has watched over us, teaching us and guarding us. He helped us to develop our speech and how we see the world. If, however, you are asking how long He has had Wingspeakers, it has been almost a thousand years. The stones laid here mark all the Wingspeakers, almost four thousand of them, all still alive in His memory. When I finally pass to the great hunting plains, He will place a stone here for me as well. The Wingscouts have their own memorial plaza. I'll show it to you later."

"May the day I add another stone be long in coming."

Raphael looked at Gabriel, who returned her gaze. Deep in his eyes, she saw the endless pain of seeing those he cared for die. Unable to meet his gaze, she looked away.

"I must go. Huntress, please help Raphael and the two humans to settle in. I extend the welcome of my city to them."

Huntress bowed in acknowledgement and as she straightened, Gabriel rested his hand lightly on her shoulder before turning and walking off. As Gabriel vanished, Raphael saw a stone marked with English script, rather than the Felaran runes of the others, a stone placed directly in front of the statue. Walking over to the edge of the lake, she leaned forwards for a better look, then jerked backwards in shock as she realized what it was and what it implied.

"What is it, Raphael?"

Raphael stood up and stepped away from the lake, her eyes fixed on an inscription that she knew she would never forget, a simple name and two dates.

**Alfred Worthington  
** **31** **st** **December 1998  
** **12** **th** **June 2043**

"That stone. Is that…"

Huntress stood by her side, looking across at it.

"Yes. The birth and end of the man whom Gabriel once was. He placed this stone here to ensure that the man who died for him to live would be remembered for all time."

Raphael stared at the stone, unable to tear her gaze away from it, feeling the warmth seem to evaporate from the very air around her.

"I knew but... He knew all this time… yet he didn't…"

Huntress glanced quizzically down at her, then nodded slowly in belated understanding.

"Yes. Over three thousand years he waited for justice, but he stayed his hand. This stone has been here for over four centuries, placed even before the man who would become Gabriel was born on Earth."

The writing on the tablet suddenly blurred as Raphael's eyes filled with tears. A moment later, both of Huntress' left arms curled around her, offering comfort.

"You should not stay out here much longer. You need food and sleep."

"My grandmother, she did that…"

Huntress briefly closed her eyes as she steered Raphael towards the main archway.

"You are not your grandmother. Her sins are not yours and will not be held against you, only your own actions count. Come, let's get you settled in."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Five**

_Twenty-fifth century after The Return._

The city spread below, glimmering in the dawnlight as its inhabitants began another day. Gabriel watched from the sky as the inhabitants, the majority of whom were Felarans with a small sprinkling of humans among them, began to move on their paths. Several groups began removing the decorations which had been used to celebrate the twenty-fifth centennial celebration of the Return.

"Good view, isn't it?"

Gabriel managed not to flinch and instead angled his head to look across at Raphael, who had managed to fly up without him noticing.

"I come up here every now and then to remind myself of how far the Felarans have come and to re-affirm my pledge to help them discover for themselves what they need to know."

"That's something I still don't truly understand. Why didn't you start them off with the tech you had when you arrived on this world?"

Gabriel altered his glidepath and descended towards the cave in the mountain above the city. At the entrance to the cave, a pair of guardsmen stiffened to attention.

"Raphael, ask yourself this. If someone gave you a technological boost but did not teach you the ideas behind it, could you use it effectively?"

Raphael frowned in thought as they landed in front of the cave.

"So, by guiding them, you steer them towards what they needed to know?"

"Not quite. I steered them _away_ from the errors which almost doomed humanity. They themselves discovered most of that which they needed to know for themselves. All I did was give them a few hints on how to build a solid foundation for everything else."

Raphael nodded and stopped at the gate. Gabriel took several more paces before realizing that she had stopped. Half-turning, he gave her a quizzical look.

"Isn't this the cave where you arrived? I didn't think that those from outside the Felaran Federation were allowed to enter, at least according to the treaty."

"Not entirely true." corrected Gabriel. "The actual paragraph you are thinking of states that the Ancient Caves, both Original and Wing, are off-limits to all outsiders unless accompanied by _me_ or one of my Wingtalkers. Since you are here with me, you may enter. Know that you are possibly the first outsider to do so."

Raphael looked awed, but stepped through the gateway, looking around with wide eyes. Gabriel hid a slight smile and turned to walk to the main building where several Felaran children were playing.

"I use the Caves both as my homes and as places where the orphans of those who died in my service can be raised in a loving environment under my protection."

Gabriel stopped as the children swarmed forwards, stooping to return hugs impartially as Raphael watched. An instant later, one of the children spotted Raphael and fearlessly approached, coming to a stop only a few feet away.

"Are you really a Winged One?"

"I am."

"I thought Gabriel was the only Winged One."

Gabriel straightened and half-turned.

"No, Swiftstrike. I am the oldest of the Winged Ones. This is Raphael, she is only twenty-five years of age."

"Is she your daughter?"

"No. Raphael comes from another line entirely and is visiting. Her normal place is with the Humans."

Sudden comprehension blossomed on Swiftstrike's face.

"So she's the Human's Winged One, whereas you are ours. But why is she so young? Did their previous one die and she come along to take over?"

"No. She's a new Winged One, without the burdens of an Ancient One like myself. She's here to learn all she can about what she needs to know, so that she can decide what path she will take in the future."

The other children looked at her, then Gabriel made shooing notions.

"Your teacher is over there, younglings, so it's time for breakfast, then your lessons. Go, Raphael will probably visit again for you to talk to. Lessons now."

With manifest reluctance, the children made their way to where the old Felaran was waiting. Raphael stepped forwards and turned to face Gabriel.

"You turned your base into an orphanage?"

"Why not? The Incident gave me a new start, it seemed only fair that I use it to give those who have also lost much a new start of their own. Many who grow up here find new paths for themselves, scientists, explorers, pilots, surgeons and even Wingspeakers on occasion. I owe the Felarans much, this is merely one of the ways I repay them for accepting me."

For several seconds, Raphael simply stared at him, then she shook herself slightly.

"The more I find out about you, the less I can understand you. You turn your refuge into a bustling home, you have legions of Felarans hanging onto your every word and yet you refuse to rule them, no matter how benevolent such a rule would be. You have lived amongst them for over three millennia and yet they regard you not as a deity, but as a person upon who they can depend and trust at all costs. How do you resist the call of power like that?"

Gabriel stopped smiling and sighed.

"My very existence is the result of misused power, of a belief that the ends justify the means. I cannot let myself become that which created me."

Raphael paled slightly and dropped her gaze.

"I… I'm sorry, Gabriel. I didn't think… I didn't mean to…"

Gabriel reached out and lightly rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Do not worry. I came to terms with it centuries ago, despite my relapse last year. If you wish to stay here, do so with my blessing, but it is time for _me_ to return to my office. By now, the in-files must be overflowing, despite the best my assistants can do."

"Can I come with you?"

Gabriel nodded and then launched himself into the air. Raphael leapt up and cupped her wings to boost her ascent in his wake. Within moments, she managed to drop into formation beside him.

"How do you do that?"

Gabriel raised one eyebrow at her.

"How do you fly so fast and smoothly?"

"Experience."

Raphael nodded, then decided to broach the subject that had sent her after Gabriel.

"I don't know if you have heard yet, but the Solarian League and the Felaran Federation have both decided…"

"… not to try to move towards integration, but instead to sign a mutual protection pact. Yes, I was informed of that this morning."

The flew in silence for several minutes as their destination grew before them, then Gabriel spoke again.

"I find it interesting that many humans have applied to join the Federation, yet very few Felarans have asked to transfer to the League."

Raphael frowned.

"Do you have an explanation?"

Gabriel flared his wings as he touched down lightly on the landing platform while Raphael, despite her smaller size, landed heavily enough that she had to drop to one knee to absorb the impact. As Gabriel folded his wings, he continued.

"I think that part of it is the bureaucracy that you humans have. We Felarans have kept paperwork to a minimum, since our culture is based on mutual support and responsibility to self rather than command from above and forced equality. The humans who have applied to join us are those you see as non-conformists and those who dislike your society. Several have already asked to join the ranks of the Wingtalkers."

"I didn't know that."

As they passed into the main hall, Gabriel glanced down at Raphael.

"The first human Wingtalkers joined a month ago. Although their differing biology has led to a few minor problems, they are integrating very well indeed. A few have even managed to become passable in Felaran instead of relying purely on English."

Raphael nodded and then glanced over at Gabriel.

"You seem dismissive of bureaucracy, but isn't it essential to maintain a stable society?"

Gabriel stopped and looked at her.

"Bureaucracy _is_ vital, but if allowed to expand, it will do so to such a degree that it will throttle the society that it seeks to command. We Felarans have carefully limited our government through minimal taxation, encouraging the spread of cooperatives, companies and charities. Our government is kept small and focuses on the core aspects, rather than trying to regulate and control everything. Whenever possible, we keep control as close to the point of usage as possible in order to enhance response and flexibility and overcome cant and creed. It's worked for well over a millennia so far."

Raphael frowned as they resumed their walk.

"I think I see, you keep red tape to an absolute minimum, but then how do you enforce the law? How is Justice meted out?"

"Simple. Everyone is responsible for their own actions. Should they choose to get drunk, they are responsible for whatever they did when drunk. Should they decide to take drugs and not seek aid, they are held responsible for any crimes they commit while seeking to feed their habit. The code we live by is firm and predictable."

Raphael nodded slowly.

"How does political correctness and multiculturalism fit in?"

"It doesn't. Political Correctness is racism in disguise, it seeks to denigrate people by excusing their crimes on the basis of their culture, thus giving the impression that they belong to an underclass that needs as much help as possible since it is obvious that they cannot do anything right by themselves. Multiculturalism promotes seperation and the formation of ghettoes. Instead, we enforce the great religious law, you can believe whatever you want, but must not try to force it on others. The law is the law, justice must be seen to be justice and the underlying logic must remain intact. Once you start making exceptions and accepting special cases, the entire edifice of legality begins to collapse."

"That's somewhat cold, isn't it?"

Gabriel looked down at her, his face showing no expression.

"It is what is required in order to keep society healthy. One of the colonies once seceded, albeit with our blessings, and tried to rule in an "enlightened" fashion. Within three generations, their infrastructure had collapsed, the majority of their population were effectively uneducated and they were fighting a twelve-front civil war. The Felaran Federation had to pacify the entire planet and declare martial law for a full generation in order to get things under control. That was almost a century ago and the aftershocks of that _still_ echo across the planet. No, the law must be solid, for it is the foundation of a healthy society."

Raphael stared at him in near-shock, then shook her head.

"Is there a safety net for unemployment or illness?"

"By your standards, just. It is highly recommended that people take out insurance against illness and accident. Should they leave regular employment, all councils and many companies like to hire part-timers to pick up litter and perform basic maintenance. Only those too arrogant to turn down such work are at risk of starving, so it's a somewhat self-correcting system. You really should pay attention to the taxation system we have set up here. We keep things as simple as possible, unlike human society and its infatuation with complexity."

Raphael frowned for a few moments then spoke. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand how that works. How do you enforce safety regulations, census records…"

"We don't _have_ safety regulations as you understand them." interrupted Gabriel. "Since anyone injured by an improperly-designed implement can sue, the manufacturers test thoroughly before releasing. Conversely, injury caused by willfully misusing an implement means that the person suing has to prove that they had reason to believe that the item was suited for the task. With communications networks carrying news quickly, those prone to lying and underhanded trading soon get discovered and punished."

"Traffic rules?"

"Agreed-upon traditions. Anyone who disobeys them may find themselves sued for willfully endangering others and held responsible for their own actions. Responsibility is the key to our society, remove responsibility and the society will eventually collapse."

.

"Greetings, Raphael!"

"Uriel! What are you doing here?"

The dark-skinned winged man grinned at her as he entered her office.

"I accompanied the latest ambassador, the Felarans were only too happy to let me in and direct me to you, several even offered to personally guide me, if you can believe it. It's incredible!"

"I _can_ believe it." responded Raphael, walking over to Uriel and giving him a quick hug. "You must remember that Gabriel has been helping the Felarans for three millenia, so they see Winged Ones such as you and me as being agents of good."

Uriel nodded slowly, then allowed Raphael to guide him to a seat.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Primarily, I was asked to get your impressions of the Felaran Federation, its culture and aims. Some of the government are rather worried about the constant flow of humans out of the Solarian League and a few cannot understand how the Federation exists with such a minimal government."

"That took me quite a while to understand, mainly because I refused to believe it at first." admitted Raphael. "The key is individual responsibility. Each person is responsible for their own actions and the consequences thereof, no exceptions."

"No exceptions?" echoed Uriel. "Not even for the effects of drink or drugs?"

"Drink and drugs are the responsibility of the user." shrugged Raphael. "If someone gets drunk, it is up to them to have set things up so that while drunk, they do not commit any crimes. Same for drugs, both are very uncommon here as a result."

"That is so weird. So, drunkenness is no defense?"

"Not at all." said Raphael, hiding a smile at Uriel's confusion. "Now, apply the concept of personal responsibility across the entire Federation, and you may see why there is no need for such a large government."

Uriel frowned, then shook his head.

"That makes my brain ache."

"Happened to me the first time Gabriel explained it. I had to look at all my assumptions and cultural programming, then discard most of it before I could truly understand. There's a kind of elegant simplicity about it all."

"Sounds rather… brutal to me." said Uriel, "But if they can make it work as well as it seems to, then I can't complain about it. The only thing that worries me is how do I tell the government? I'll need some written reports to back up what you say."

"I've been writing summaries of what I've learned about Felaran society and how it works, as explained to me by the Wingtalkers."

"That's another thing." said Uriel. "The Wingtalkers. The government back home is rather… concerned about the sheer amount of power wielded by Gabriel. His depression alone almost derailed the entire treaty talks, what happens if he decides to move against the League?"

"As long as the League doesn't move against the Federation, Gabriel will not move against the League." said Raphael calmly. "He seeks peace, but he refuses to be pushed beyond certain limits. It may be wise _not_ to seek out the limits."

"The Council doesn't like it." Uriel said. "They looked back through history and saw how dictatorships inevitably fall into chaos and infighting. And with Gabriel…"

"He isn't a dictator." interrupted Raphael. "He's an advisor who often acts on behalf of the Felaran Grand Council, but always within limits. He's had three millennia to get those limits as solid as possible."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is where I realized that my attempted sci-fi story was turning into a political tract, so I stopped.


	5. Guardian Monster

**Prologue**

The alarms and lights were unnecessary, he knew that the ship was damaged. Despite his best efforts, the vessel would not remain supralight for long, even assuming that the combination of battle damage and that last explosion had not knocked him even further off-course. It was only by the Hunter's grace that the ship had not intersected the gravetic shadow of that black hole, but the slingshot effect had at least quintupled his speed, he could be almost anywhere.

The ship shuddered again as it "fell" in a direction that corporeal senses were not meant to be able to detect. The lightspeed warp around the ship disintegrated like a paper ball chained in the path of a tsunami and the ship was suddenly spinning in realspace, twice as many alarms blaring.

The pilot ruthlessly silenced the majority of the alarms and tested the reaction thrusters, using the few still functional to fight the rotation that caused the starfield to spin and swerve unpredictably. As he did so, his baleful gaze fell briefly on the illuminated schematic of the ship with the icons of total life-support and hull integrity loss flashing in all the areas where the rest of the crew had been resting. His gaze snapped back to the inertial readouts as the starfield finally slowed and stabilized. Ahead of him, a planet shone, a third of the hemisphere illuminated by the primary, the rest dark with lights which meant sentient life on its surface. The navigation readouts flickered as the damaged sensors finally stabilized and the pilot looked at the readout with a mounting sense of vexation. Although the planet had a breathable atmosphere and a gravity only half of what he was used to, his speed was too great and his reaction mass too depleted for a normal landing. With his hull compromised, the required atmospheric braking was out of the question, but the large satellite orbiting the planet offered possibilities. Perhaps he could use its gravetic mass to somehow slow before hitting atmosphere. His hands flew and a new flightpath suggested itself. It was risky, but risk was better than certain death, so once again the thrusters flamed.

.

Where she was going was unimportant, only where she was running from mattered. Her slippered feet slapped against the road, her bag feeling as if it weighed a ton as she fled through the night from her stepfather. She had long since stopped crying, more through the need to run than through coming to terms with the fact that her stepfather had tried to kill her as he had killed her mother.

An engine sounded far behind her and she staggered sideways, falling into the roadside ditch. Sheer exhaustion whispered at her to stay still, but the need for survival was stronger and she crawled to the shelter offered by a low-growing bush on the edge of the ditch. A minute later, the harsh light of a car's headlights cast sharp-edged shadows as the vehicle approached. As it passed, Catrine risked lifting her head to see if it was who she feared it was. The sight of her mother's car tore at her heart but she remained pressed against the side of the ditch as the car slowly passed, its occupants looking ahead, obviously searching for her.

Her ruminations were cut short by an unusual reddish light. Remaining prone, she scanned the horizon for a clue as to what the strange light was, but it was only when she glanced upwards that she spotted the descending fireball, growing larger but otherwise not seeming to move. Startled shouts and squealing wheels indicated that her searchers had also spotted it and realized what its lack of lateral motion meant, that it was heading straight for where she lay. Unable to summon the energy to run, Catrine closed her eyes and waited for oblivion.

.

The gravetic braking had worked and the cloaking systems had, despite their damaged state, easily defeated the oddly primitive electromagnetic detectors used by the inhabitants of the planet. However, the pilot was unable to feel any relief as the flames of the atmospheric braking maneuver roared across the cockpit view-screen. Only three of the atmospheric fins had extended, leaving the craft ridiculously unbalanced, but he managed to hold the flight-path and even extend the lateral vector to avoid the thermal/electromagnetic cluster that signified what was probably a town.

The shaking eased slightly as the craft leveled out slightly and the pilot glanced at the flickering screen. A large body of water was just over the next rise and if he could land the ship in it, he could submerge it for concealment.

The ridge loomed ahead and the pilot pulled back as much as he dared. The ship roared over the ridge so closely that the vegetation scraped against the hull, but the lake glittered ahead and the pilot raised the nose as much as he could before the stern made contact.

.

The sudden gust of wind ripped at Catrine. As she raised her head, she saw the dying corona of flames die down to reveal what could only be some sort of spaceship. The craft barely cleared the hill behind her and moments later, the sound of something hitting the water hard echoed over the ridge. Unsteadily, Catrine got to her feet and set off towards the lake. At the very least, law enforcement agents would soon show up, maybe she could tell her story to one of them and get away from her stepfather. After all, a local sheriff would be overruled by anyone sent by the government.

.

The pilot slowly regained consciousness, the cockpit coming back into focus. The ship had held together and had not flooded, despite the fact that the ship was completely submerged, albeit at an angle. He turned his attention to the displays and noted that the bays he needed were all still intact and… what was this? A single local was approaching the lake. Well, he needed the local language, this could be useful. Pulling himself out of the flight couch, he reached for the weapons locker and then stopped with a snarl of frustration. Until he gained medical data on the local sentients, he dared not try to stun them. Instead, he made his way towards the aft of the ship. If he remembered right, aquatic equipment would be stored next to the main airlock.

.

The lake was still choppy and steaming slightly, but there was no sign of whatever had caused the splash. Catrine stared at it dully, weariness creeping though her thought processes. Staggering to a nearby bush, she crawled into the shelter it provided and let herself fall into comforting darkness. ****

* * *

.

**Chapter One**

The warm bed seemed strange and Catrine stirred in sleepy contentment before her memories returned. Her eyes slammed open and she sat bolt upright, the sheet that had covered her sliding down to her lap. An instant later, she realized that she was nude, and promptly grabbed the sheet, wrapping itself around her as she turned to see where she was. The room that she was in slowly illuminated and as it did so, her sense of unease heightened. Although the room was plain, it was metallic and the design was subtly odd. Mechanisms of various unknowable purposes were situated around the room, labelled in a strange script which, despite being nothing she had ever come across before, she was somehow able to understand.

"Where am I?"

Catrine's voice echoed slightly, but there was no answer.

"Hello?"

Catrine's only answer was silence and she carefully slid off the bed. The floor under her feet, although metallic, was pleasantly warm and her confusion grew as she saw a pile of neatly-folded fabric on a similar bed opposite her. Beside it, also neatly folded, albeit in a fashion she did not recognize, were the torn clothes that she had been wearing when she fell asleep and she reached for them, then paused. Gently holding the new fabric, she lifted the top item and saw underneath it knickers and bra of similar material but of a design obviously copied from her old clothes. Letting the sheet drop to the floor, she donned the underwear and turned her attention to the other new clothing. The item she had lifted turned out to be a wrap-style jacket with a belt while a pair of loose drawstring trousers and shoes lay on the bed. Quickly donning them, she started to stroke the fabric when she realized that she was clean, even though she had been filthy when she had fallen asleep.

Turning round, her gaze swept the room again, looking for any answers, but none suggested themselves. With no other option, she walked over to the hatch and looked at the controls. Once again, although the script was strange, the meanings were obvious and she touched the button to open the hatchway. In the passageway, a crudely-drawn chevron on the wall pointed left. Her sense of curiosity aroused, Catrine followed the chevrons until a low-level, irregular sound resolved itself into the clatter of items being moved. A sudden crash echoed, followed by a howl of pain and Catrine broke into a run, racing to the hatchway from which the noise had issued. Seeing a fallen container pinning a large humanoid shape, she grabbed the crate and tried to lift it. A moment later, the figure on the floor joined its efforts to her and together they levered the crate to one side, letting it fall with another loud crash. Gasping for breath, Catrine looked down, only to freeze at the sight of a giant cat looking back at her. The cat groaned and then, to her astonishment, it spoke.

.

The pilot looked up, feeling slightly ridiculous. He had not expected her to awake so soon and he had taken advantage of her sleep to medically examine her, clean her, create clothing for when she awoke and use a neural scanner to both learn her language and give her an understanding of his.

"Thank you for helping me."

The sentient took a few steps back, staring at him as he picked himself up.

"I see you are rested. May I offer you refreshment?"

"Who are you?"

The pilot froze for a second as he remembered a portion of the medical readout.

"My name is one which your speech cannot duplicate. For now, call me Leyan, the first part of my name. My race is the _jhaakraaneeya_. May I know your name?"

"Catrine. Catrine Wiliamson."

.

Catrine stared at the three-meter bipedal feline in shock, barely realizing that she had answered his question. Although he had not spoken English, she had nevertheless understood him perfectly. Suddenly, his earlier question penetrated and her stomach made its emptiness plain with a sudden growl. The being who called himself Leyan dropped his gaze to her midriff in obvious puzzlement and she felt her cheeks heat.

"Um, I guess I am kind of hungry."

Leyan nodded and stepped around her.

"If you will follow me, I will get you some food that your biological system can handle."

"How do you know what I can eat?"

The being seemed to hesitate briefly before flicking his ears in a gesture that she somehow recognized as resigned trepidation.

"While you were asleep, I placed you in the medical scanner and used it to examine your molecular biology. I also took the opportunity to have you cleaned and new coverings provided."

For an instant, a combination of embarrassment and fury washed over Catrine at the invasion of her privacy, but then her mind paused. This Leyan was not human and as such, he probably saw her as an interesting but non-sexual phenomenon. Nevertheless, her emotions refused to give way to reason just yet and she was still wrestling with herself when Leyan entered a room and motioned for her to sit down while he crossed over to a device built into the far wall and busied himself with its controls.

.

Leyan accessed the medical data from Catrine's examination and applied it to the food program in order to adjust its nutritional output and remove anything that could harm her. The resulting product resembled a creamy-white mound with purple bits in. Collecting it, hastily-shaped cutlery, a jug of filtered water from the lake in which the ship lay and two cups, he carried it over to where she was sitting on a stool beside a table. Passing the mound and a spoon to her, he poured the water into the two cups and slowly drank from his. Catrine watched and sipped from her own cup before carefully tasting her food. Her eyebrows shot up and she took another, larger scoop.

"This tastes incredible. I've never had anything like this before, what is it?"

"Protein base with infused nutrients, modified to provide you with the elements and compounds your body requires."

Catrine nodded, her attention focused on reducing the size of the mound as fast as possible. Leyan waited until the plate was empty and then offered a refill of the water.

"I feel that I must apologize for taking you from your environment and bringing you here, but it was the only way that I could learn your language."

Catrine looked at him, her eyes curious.

"How does that work? I hear you talking in whatever speech you use, but I understand what you are saying."

"Neural scanning and induction. The scanner identified and copied the patterns of your language understanding into my mind while the same process happened the other way. It means that I understand your language and you understand mine, allowing us to communicate."

"So you tinkered with my _brain_?"

Leyan paused, reminding himself again that the locals were primitive.

"Only to let you understand me. None of your memories or personality traits have been altered or copied. Such a thing is against all the laws of my people."

Catrine stared at him, her mouth moving slightly before she spoke.

"So, it's alright to place a new language in my head, but nothing else?"

"Not without your informed consent, no. The biocode of Jharall stipulates that any imposed neural alterations must be as minimal as possible and can be imposed only to aid communication."

Catrine nodded slowly and Leyan decided to take a chance.

"I am surprised that you did not try to flee me, I must look like a monster to you."

Catrine shook her head.

"No. The only monsters I fear are those who are ugly on the inside."

Leyan opened his mouth, then froze as he thought through the ramifications of her answer. His mouth closed again and he nodded slowly.

"Were you fleeing one such being when you came to the lake?"

Catrine remained silent, but Leyan saw assent in her silence and nodded again.

"You wish to be far from this place, do you not. I also wish to move from this area. Perhaps you can show me where the best place to go to would be."

.

"San Francisco"

The map on the view-screen shifted slightly and the named city was suddenly in the center of the screen. Leyan turned to regard Catrine thoughtfully.

"This place seems to have a very large population."

"Yes, but it's on the other side of the USA. Anyone looking for us here would not connect any reports of strangeness over there. Besides, this area here is only sparsely populated."

Leyan nodded slowly as the map zoomed in and changed to show the topographical features.

"That valley looks useful, especially where it meets that hill. When darkness falls, I shall pilot the ship there and create a hiding place."

"What about radar?"

Leyan turned and gave her a tooth-hidden grin.

"Directed electro-magnetic radiation used to detect things? This ship can absorb it perfectly, we'll be merely a hole in the air to it. Satellite radar may prove problematic, but as long as we remain sub-sonic, they'll have no reason to examine the area."

Catrine nodded slowly and then frowned.

"We'll need money and other things. I know where my mother kept her stash, but it's at home. Her jewelry, my clothes, all of it's at home."

"Will she not be upset if it is taken?"

Catrine bent her head and clenched her fists for several seconds before replying.

"If she was still alive, she would be. My step-father killed her after she found out that he was having an affair. She threatened to divorce him, it would have left him penniless since my mother was the rich one. He killed her and would have killed me if I hadn't run."

She raised her head and met Leyan's eyes.

"She left everything to me in her will, but by now he'll have found and burned it, claiming it all for himself, the misbegotten bastard!"

Leyan suddenly grinned.

"Well, I think that we should reclaim your things. The invisibility systems on this craft still work, show me where you live."

Catrine looked down at the map-screen which was centered on the lake again. Her finger pointed at one large house and Leyan grinned even wider.

"I can land behind the building, those trees will aid in concealment. If he's still out looking for you, we can probably reclaim everything of yours."

Catrine looked at him and her grin was just as predatorial.

* * *

.

".. and in local news, just-bereaved Sheriff Reginald Sharper was robbed last night. After unsuccessfully searching for his daughter, who had fled the intruders who had killed his wife, Mrs Alicia Sharper, Sheriff Sharper returned home to find that his home was being ransacked. Thrown through his living-room window by one of the thieves, Sheriff Sharper regained consciousness to find most of the furniture and fittings stolen."

Both Leyan and Catrine grinned at the news program on one of the secondary datascreens.

"Although Sheriff Sharper was unavailable for comment at this time, it is known that the FBI have been called in after a reported sighting of Alicia Sharper's daughter, Catrine Wiliamson, three-hundred and fifty miles due north of Newtown."

"That side-trip will definitely throw them off." muttered Catrine.

"Our thoughts this evening are for both Sheriff Sharper and his step-daughter. This is Nigella Jameson, Channel seventeen news, Newtown."

Leyan tapped a control and the screen switched off.

"Well, we have liberated your property and are en-route to L.A. If only I hadn't punched him straight through the window, thus alerting his co-conspirators and preventing you from avenging your mother, it would have been a clean sweep."

Catrine nodded.

"That bastard's still alive, but now he doesn't have mum's money or access to it. If he hadn't been so greedy and pulled most of it out of the bank, we couldn't have grabbed it. For once, that shithead did something useful."

Leyan glanced back at the corridor which was crammed with the pieces of furniture and clothing which could not fit into the overflowing holds.

"I'd love to hear his explanation as to why the thieves left all of his stuff on the floor but took everything else. Should be fascinating."

Catrine grinned briefly.

"The best revenge is a life lived well. I intend to truly enjoy myself."

For several minutes, silence filled the cockpit and then Catrine leaned forwards and pointed to one side.

"That looks like the valley."

Leyan nodded and the ship banked majestically as it slowed to a halt in front of the cliff. Two ports opened below the cockpit and an intense but barely-visible beam lashed out at the cliff.

"Ten of your minutes and…"

Leyan's voice stopped as the beam suddenly blinked out. He examined his readouts and smiled.

"There seems to be a cavern behind the rock more than large enough for the ship to turn around in. Did you know it was there?"

"I… I didn't."

"Obviously the Hunter is smiling on us. Let's not turn down Her gift."

.

The dawn-light illuminated the hills beyond the cave entrance. Catrine looked out through a slight ripple then turned her gaze to the device humming slightly on the ground beside her.

"That thing is hiding us?"

"Indeed. I merely fed in imagery of how the cliff looked before the hole and set the projector to create the illusion that all is as it was. By tonight, the fabricator will have produced an artificial rock-face with concealed door that we can install once I've finished setting the locking-clamps."

Catrine nodded and then hefted the illumination unit that Leyan had handed her.

"I'm going to scout the cave. We'll need water and somewhere to go to the loo."

"The ship has waste-disposal systems."

"Well, water is important. I'll have a look. If I hit trouble, I'll use that com-badge you gave me."

Leyan waved and Catrine activated the device, playing its beam over the walls and ceiling of the cavern as she moved deeper. A trickling noise attracted her attention and she followed the echoes to a large pool that was rippling from droplets that fell from the stalactites above. Reaching down, she touched the surface and flinched away from the near-freezing water. Standing up, she pulled one of the beacons Leyan had given to her out of her belt-pouch and placed it by the pool, switching it on to mark its location.

"Good tracking skills."

Catrine jolted as Leyan's voice spoke and spun around, realizing too late that the rock was wet. An instant later, Leyan's paw caught her and pulled her away from the edge of the pool before she could fall in.

"Are you alright?"

"Make some noise next time, dammit! I almost had an early bath, thanks to you!"

Catrine glared at Leyan's worried expression, then laughed.

"I'm sorry. You just startled me, that's all. Are you finished with the clamps?"

"Yes. They are secure and awaiting the artificial rock."

As Catrine watched, Leyan knelt down and gingerly dipped a single digit into the water before holding a scanner over it. The lights moved in an odd pattern and Leyan stood with a satisfied smile.

"It's almost pure enough to drink now, just needs a little bit of filtering. Sonar indicates that it's fed from an underground spring and drains through another, so there won't be any shortage. Put it through an electrolysis cell and the fusion reactor will have enough hydrogen to provide as much power as we need. Excellent work."

Catrine stood and grinned.

"Well, time to start putting in the pipes and building the base."

Catrine's grin vanished.

"We're doing that now?"

"There is a great deal to do. My ship will not be able to achieve orbit again, let alone go superlight, so we may as well use it as a source of material for our base. We have enough food for several months, a plentiful supply of water, power and shelter, now we must capitalize on it."

As he spoke, Leyan started back towards the ship, Catrine following.

"Are we really going to take apart your ship?"

"Of course. I'll start by checking the main fusion reactor and moving it into the back of the cave along with the supporting systems. Once that's done and the new door installed, the ship's illuminators had better be stripped out and used to light the cave, and then the hull…"

"Enough! I'm exhausted just thinking about it. Since you have the plan, what needs doing first?"

"Excavating a trench for the water pipes. I'll move the reactor, you dig the trench, stopping just before the pool."

Catrine stared up at him.

"The floor is solid rock! How am I meant to dig out a trench in that?"

Leyan handed her a handle and Catrine looked at it.

"And this is?"

"Energy blade. That button activates it, release to switch it off. Cut the trench while I move the reactor. Thank the Hunter that the ship was made modular for ease of maintenance. Now, where did the grav-lift units get put?"

.

"Ready?"

"Not yet!"

Catrine looked up into the darkness of the higher reaches of the cavern. Several clanks and unusual scraping noises drifted down, then the rope hanging down twitched as Leyan descended, landing by the partially-disassembled hull of the ship.

"Now."

Catrine tapped the touch-panel by the entrance and the cave suddenly went from dark and mysterious to brightly lit. Leyon looked up at the light-clusters and nodded in satisfaction before turning his attention to the upper caves which led off the central cavern.

"Those caves look potentially useful. If we run a walkway up to them, they could become private chambers."

"Could we run pipes as well as cables under the walkway?"

Leyan gave her a quizzical look and she smiled.

"Private bathrooms in each bedroom."

Leyan nodded in sudden understanding.

"Of course. Excellent idea, a touch of luxury."

Catrine smiled again and walked over to the raised platform that served as the kitchen/dining area. Walking up the short flight of stairs and striding across the reclaimed hull-plating, she manipulated the food-dispenser controls with practiced ease. A moment later, Leyan joined her and accepted the plate of food she handed to him.

"Another few weeks and we should be finished. Now that the lighting is finally up, it will be a great deal easier."

Catrine nodded and swallowed her mouthful of food.

"I'm looking forwards to having an en-suite. That sonic-shower works, but it feels really strange."

Leyan's gaze traveled across to the gutted ship then to the raised platform at the back of the cave where the control panels were mounted on arrays of poles.

"Build the walkway and bedrooms, move the furniture and finish the control center. Maybe I should do that last first."

"Why?"

"Communications. I want to know just what your news services are saying, if they suspect I'm here or anything. Sharper did get a good look at me before I hit him. If he talks, it could lead to complications."

"If he talks, he'll be put in a loony bin for sure. A three-meter tall bipedal lion stealing furniture, who would believe a story like that?"

"When you put it that way, I think I see what you mean. Nevertheless, it would be nice to find out what is happening out there."

Catrine nodded as she finished off her food.

"I'll help how I can, much of this stuff is beyond me."

"Just hold what I ask you to hold and it'll be over in no time."

Catrine grinned.

"I bet you say that to all the ladies."

"...what?"

.

The dawn-light illuminated the hills beyond the cave entrance. Catrine looked out at the horizon and sighed.

"Missing the other humans?"

"Sort of. Amazing to think that less than ten miles from here is Los Angeles, but getting there and back would take ages."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

Catrine stepped back and the door closed silently. Turning, she saw Leyan bent over one of the control panels.

"Come over here and I'll show you."

Catrine walked across and joined Leyan on the control dais, looking down at the schematic.

"What am I looking at here?"

"An abandoned tunnel that terminates half a mile from here and goes underneath the center of L.A. It dates back to the earliest days of the city, or possibly before, and may have been used as a refuge by fleeing slaves prior to your civil war. I've checked the hold and the mining machine is intact. If I dig through to this point here and then use the mineral deposits there to create grav-rings, we can create a route straight to this point here. Digging up to the surface should be easy, especially if you hire a basement in this area to use as the end terminus."

Catrine followed the pointing and nodded.

"So we put a railcar in the shaft and a lift at the end. What happens if anyone enters the tunnel?"

"The remotes indicate that two of the entrances have collapsed. If we collapse the third or put in a fake rock wall, we'll be secure. What do you think?"

Catrine nodded slowly.

"I like the idea. Of course, the other end could be interesting."

"Not really. Once we link to the shaft and lay the rings, we go into L.A. and you hire a basement. You then leave a beacon in it and I use it as the lift destination."

Catrine shrugged.

"Sounds like a plan. By the way, how do we pay for the flat when we run out of money?"

Leyan opened his left hand and Catrine stared in shock at the diamond in it.

"What the… Where did you get that?"

"Used one of the manufacturing units to assemble it atom by atom, took almost one of your months to make. Do you think it is big enough to be valuable?"

Catrine gaped at the jewel for several moments before recovering her voice.

"Valuable? That would buy a goddammed skyscraper!"

"Pass it off as a family heirloom and use the money to buy a basement. The rest of the skyscraper can wait."

Catrine's gaze jerked off the diamond and met Leyan's twinkling eyes. Her shock slowly melted into a wide grin.

"Well, it should purchase something suitable."

* * *

.

**Chapter Two**

The dawn-light illuminated the streets outside as Catrine picked up the newspaper from the steps and closed the door. A slight hiss announced the opening of the lift door and Leyan stepped out through the suddenly-rippling floor-ceiling mirror, hunched over to fit into the human-sized room.

"Good morning, kitten. Any chance of a coffee?"

Catrine laughed and walked through to the kitchen to switch on the kettle. Over her shoulder, she saw Leyan lay the paper out on the table and start reading.

"You are addicted to coffee, aren't you?"

"It is one of the two good things about this planet of yours."

Catrine lifted down the coffee jar and grabbed a teaspoon while continuing the early-morning bantering.

"Dare I ask what the other thing is?"

"Just look in a mirror."

Catrine grinned as she poured the boiling water into the outsize mug, adding milk and giving it a quick stir.

"Anything of interest?"

"Two murders and a traffic accident, nothing for Catseye Investigations."

Catrine sighed and walked back into the kitchen, opening the cupboard and pulling out a bowl.

"We may need to recruit some staff, Leyan. My fame is spreading."

"I know, I'm the one keeping up with all the computational, sensor and paperwork, remember?"

Gathering up the rest of her breakfast, Catrine joined him at the table.

"I'm serious. I keep getting asked about you. That cover story isn't going to hold up forever. Someone will try and investigate my agoraphobic colleague one day."

Leyan nodded, his head barely missing the lamp.

"I know. Still, at least the rig works."

Catrine grinned and glanced over at the glasses that lay on one side.

"Yes, whatever I see through those, you see and you can relay information to me without anyone else realizing. It's amazing how much technology can be engineered into a pair of wire-rim spectacles. It gives me a real advantage in tracking and detecting things. The comm-implant helps as well."

Leyan drained the mug and pushed the paper in front of Catrine.

"Well, hopefully it will be a slow day today. I'm heading back to the den to do some research and testing. If all is quiet, I'll give you a game of chess."

"I'll have the computer switched on ready." laughed Catrine as Leyan ducked back through the mirror-door.

.

"Good morning, Miss Siyann."

Caterine smiled at the doorman, reflecting again how a simple surname change had kept her safe from her stepfather for almost a year.

"Good morning, John. Anyone waiting for me?"

"Yes, there is. A Mr Greenwold is eager to hire you. He should be waiting outside your office."

Catrine managed not to look surprised.

"I see. Thank-you for the heads-up."

"My pleasure, madame."

Catrine walked across the echoing lobby and entered the lift, smiling at the other occupants. A few moments later, the doors opened on her level and she stepped out and walked up towards her office. As John had indicated, a man was waiting outside.

"Mr Greenwold, I presume?"

The man straightened and turned to face her, one hand brushing back his silvering hair back.

"I am."

"Pleased to meet you sir, if you hold on one moment, I'll unlock the office. My name is Catrine Siyann."

For a moment, the man looked slightly bemused and Catrine took the opportunity to open the door and switch on the lights. Walking over to her desk, she switched on the computer and then sat down behind the desk as her visitor entered.

"Please, sit and tell me your problem."

As she spoke, a small icon flashed up on her glasses to indicate that Leyan had activated all the surveillance devices in the room and was monitoring. The man sat down and looked at her.

"When detective Chin recommended you, I thought that you would be…"

"Older?" Catrine laughed. "It's a common misconception, don't worry about it. How did you and Philip meet, Mr Greenwold?"

"Um, please, call me Jack. He helped with a previous problem I had, but he said that if I needed more help than the police could provide, I should come to you."

Catrine nodded.

"I see. What is the problem?"

"It's my daughter! She's been kidnapped and the cops have no clue as to who did it. All they have to go on is a phone call that could not be traced and a printed ransom note so devoid of evidence it may as well not exist!"

Catrine nodded again and placed her hands flat on the desk.

"I must warn you that kidnapping cases are not cheap. However, I operate on a no-find, no-fee basis."

"The ransom was set at five million."

"Very well, Mr Greenwold. My standard fee for cases like this, should I recover your daughter alive, will be one percent of the ransom. If the police find her, there will be no charge. Is this acceptable?"

"I'll pay a million for her safe return."

"My fee is set." said Catrine as gently as she could. "With your permission, I'll get onto the case."

Greenwold nodded and Catrine stood to escort him to the door. As she opened it, she paused and looked up at him.

"I cannot guarantee success, sir, but I promise that I will do my best."

Greenwold nodded and strode down the corridor, his shoulders slumped. Catrina waited until he had turned the corner and then returned to her desk.

"A kidnapping."

"I heard." replied Leyan from the computer screen. "I've already sliced into the FBI database, they've got a team on it. Give me another hour or so and I'll lift the satellite feed from the NSA records. In the meantime, may I suggest that you contact Philip Chin?"

"You may indeed." replied Catrine as she reached for the phone.

.

The Greenwold mansion rose majestically on the top of the hill ahead of her, but as Catrine got out of the taxi, her attention was fixed on the oriental man waiting for her at the end of the drive.

"Phil!"

The Chinese/American half-turned and a brief smile alighted on his normally-inscrutable face.

"Phil, what happened? Don't you normally call me in on cases like this?"

Phil shrugged.

"Chief Jefferson took exception to you solving all our cases for us and placed a ban on the department asking for outside help without his permission."

"Hence your shell-game with Mr Greenwold. Very well, what do we have?"

"We do not know. Do you wish to see?"

Without bothering to wait for her answer, Phil offered his arm and Catrine took it. Together, they walked up the drive towards the house.

"The mansion was attacked by professionals. They gassed the place and knocked everyone out. When the hired help recovered, they found Elissia had been taken and a ransom demand left on the desk in Greenwold's study."

As Phil finished his recitation, they entered the door. Seeing a line of text apparently hovering in the air in front of her, Catrine breathed in and frowned.

"Unusual smell, some form of C.S. gas derivative perhaps?"

Phil stared at her for a moment before recovering his customary aplomb.

"We don't know yet, the canisters are still in the lab. May I show you where Elissia was taken from?"

Catrine nodded and Phil escorted her up the stairs to a bedroom. Catrine looked round and winced.

"My god, it's so… _pink_."

"What the hell are you doing here!"

Catrine looked over her shoulder at the hulking form of Chief Jefferson.

"I have been hired by Mr Greenwold to aid in finding his daughter, Mr Jefferson. Now, if you will pardon me."

Before Jefferson could respond, Catrine stepped into the room and looked round slowly. A second later, holographic lines appeared and she nodded slowly.

"Pay attention, class. From the rumpling of the bed, Elissia was lying on it, propped up on her elbows. You will notice the textbook, she was studying. The gas caused her to fall off, you can see the crumpled sheet of paper."

Catrine stooped low and allowed her gaze to drift around the room again, noting the new lines of text and icons that only she could see.

"Dirt marks there and there, two people, probably male. Faint pattern tread there, army-style boot. They must have grabbed her and carried her out between them."

Standing up, Catrine turned and pushed past the police who were filling the doorway.

"Only one main staircase, they probably went down it. However, they seem to be professionals so they probably left via one of the servant's entrances. Which one is closest to any roads?"

As she spoke, a ghostly image appeared and Leyan's voice whispered "NSA satellite records." The image showed two indistinct figures carrying a bundle to one fence and through a small gap to a vehicle waiting on the lane beyond.

"Um, west."

Catrine nodded for Greenwold to lead the way and at the door, she compared her position-icon with the route the two men had taken. Stepping out, she bent down again, then straightened and strode along a graveled path.

"The other paths were smooth, someone or _someones_ ran down this path. They turned off about here, cut across this lawn. See that footprint?"

Phil nodded and motioned to one of the other policemen to mark it.

"Now, there is a fence over there, but they would only have cut across the lawn if they knew where they were going."

As she spoke, Catrine pushed through the shrubbery and saw the cut fence section.

"This must be how they escaped, they probably had transport. Here, footprints. Get a cast of these, one of them should match the dirt pattern in Elissia's room."

Stepping round the muddy patch, Catrine looked both ways as Leyan replayed the imagery for her, slowing it to show the car scraping against a tree. She located the tree, walked over and bent down.

"Paint here, brown, fresh. Too high for a normal car, especially given the state of the road. Probably a 4x4. Tire tracks just there, get a cast of them and find the model."

Catrine turned to find Phil, Greenwold and Jefferson gaping at her. She gave them a small smile and turned to face down the track.

"Although I couldn't say for sure, they probably went this way, towards the city center. Makes sense, hide among the other cars."

Phil stepped up beside her and gave her an awe-filled glance before turning round.

"Chief, I think that we _really_ need her on this one."

.

Catrine put down the plastic folder containing the ransom note and sighed, glancing out at the darkening sky.

"Nothing?"

"No, Phil, not yet. Don't quote me, but I think they used a palmtop and printed the message from Greenwold's printer. That would explain how they avoided getting anything on the paper, they never actually touched it. Anything on the phone call?"

Phil shook his head.

"The next one is due in about ten minutes."

"Well, all we can do now is wait."

.

The phone rang and Greenwold picked it up. Across the room, Jefferson, Phil and Catrine all listened in on headphones.

"Greenwold."

"Is the ransom ready?"

Greenwold glanced at the suitcase filled with banknotes.

"It is, as long as Elissia's unharmed."

There was a silence for a moment, then a girl's voice came on.

"Daddy?"

"Elissia! Hold on, I'm gonna get you out of this!"

The phone went silent again and then the male voice returned.

"The instructions are simple. You will bring the money to the lowest point of the tram system by the sea where you will receive further instructions. Be there in exactly six hours from now."

The phone went dead and Jefferson glanced across at the FBI agent trying to trace the call. He looked up and shook his head. Catrine took off her headphones and leaned back, staring at the holo-image Leyan was showing her, a map with a pulsing icon. She breathed out and then stood up.

"I need to see a contact of mine. Phil, do me a favor. Meet me back here in three hours. I should have something by then."

Before Phil could answer, she walked out the room, pulling out her phone and holding it to her ear to hide the fact that she was using her implanted communicator.

"Leyan?"

"I got her located. They swapped vehicles twice, but I tracked them. The phone call was mere proof, I was already scanning that area. Shall I prepare your armor?"

"Please do. Since it's dark, feel free to join me."

As she put the phone away, Catrine grinned.

.

The stealthed grav-sled floated silently above the apparently-deserted warehouse. Peering out of the hatch, Catrine activated the thermal view of her helmet and grinned mirthlessly as a dozen heat signatures coalesced, two of them on the roof.

"What's the plan?"

Leyan leaned over and looked down, his armor plating matte-black in the starlight.

"I drop onto the roof and take down the two sentries. You follow on the rope and then we drop an EM grenade into the building along with a flash-bang. We go in, you grab Elissia and get her back to her house while I knock out everyone else. You then send the cops here, I'll be gone before they can arrive."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

Leyan nodded and then held up a coil of rope anchored to the sled at one end.

"Give me two seconds, then go."

As Catrine nodded, Leyan stepped off the sled. Catrine threw the rope and slid down it, grateful for her gauntlets. When she touched down, it was to see Leyan tying up two unconscious forms. Leyan glanced up at her and then motioned to his back. With the ease of long practice, Catrine climbed on and grabbed at the shoulder-ridges he had added specifically for her. Leyan stood and then, in a blurred movement, threw two spheres through the skylight.

As the light briefly blinded everyone inside and the EM-wave shorted out the electrics, Leyan dropped through the glass, landing silently. As Catrine let go and turned towards the seated, frantic Elissia, Leyan launched himself into the grouped criminals, laying them out with a string of blows. Catrine ignored him and quickly untied Elissia from the chair, half-carrying her in a fast sprint for the door. As they burst out into the side alley, Catrine pulled off the hood that had kept Elissia from seeing what was going on and yanked off the gag. Elissia stared at her and Catrine smiled as reassuringly as possible, given that only the lower half of her face was visible.

"Your dad sent me to rescue you. We need to get out of here, I think I knocked out all those scumbags, but I may have missed one or two."

Elissia nodded and the two of them ran down the alleyway towards the street. As they ran, Catrine glanced back and saw Leyan briefly standing at the door, a wide grin on his face before he faded back into the dark.

.

"Daddy!"

"Elissia!"

Catrine lent against the door-frame, her helmet under her arm and a smile on her face. Phil stood just beside her but his gaze was on her suit of armor. After a few moments of pregnant silence, Catrine turned towards him and raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, I've never seen anything like that before. Looks almost…"

"Cat-like?"

Phil nodded, his gaze resting briefly on the sword-hilt which rose above Catrine's right shoulder before dropping to the helmet with its undeniably feline styling and visor which covered the upper part of her face when donned.

"It seemed appropriate. I forgot to ask, how did the bust go?"

"My colleagues said that the kidnappers were all there, all out cold bar one who was hiding, going on about giant cats. They thought he was mad. Now, I think I understand, sort of."

Catrine grinned and then half-turned when a hand landed on her shoulder. Jefferson stood behind her, his face covered in a frown.

"Why did you risk her like that?"

Catrine shook her head.

"They wanted her alive. I'm a good fighter and was acting on time-limited information. There was no way to get you there, they were monitoring police bands. I had to go in myself, it was what they were not expecting and so it was the only thing that would work."

Jefferson scowled but simply turned and stalked off. Catrine watched him go and then stared at the paparazzi mob flooding in through the main gate, their cameras already pointing at the mansion.

"Oh shit."

"What? Think of all the publicity."

Catrine elbowed him and took a step backwards.

"I don't do it for the publicity. I don't _like_ publicity."

"In _that_ outfit?"

Catrine glanced at the approaching mob and then firmly donned her helmet.

"Damn, I hope that they haven't got pictures of me already. Hell, Phil, I need a favour from you as soon as I get paid."

"A lift?"

"A lift."

* * *

.

**Chapter Three**

The front-page pictures on the newspapers were bad enough but the horde of paparazzi camped outside her flat were worse. The horde followed her down the street as she made her way to the office, the glare of cameras and flashbulbs almost blinding. After what seemed like a thousand miles of shouted questions, Catrine saw John Williams standing at the entrance with several bulky men flanking him. As she strode up the steps, he opened the door for her and smiled, his eyes almost vanishing in the winkles.

"I thought that you would need extra protection today."

"Thanks, John. I'll put you up for sainthood!"

John's smile widened and he bowed her through before firmly closing the door against the press. Making her way to the lift, she almost collapsed from relief when the door closed, then realized that the crowded lift was too quiet. The silence remained until she got out and the lift doors closed on a sudden babble of conversation. Smiling absently at the other people using the corridor, Catrine unlocked her office, hung up her coat and collapsed on the chair. A moment later, the computer screen lit up with Leyan's face.

"Why did you have to cat-style that damned armor?"

"You know why, kitten. Besides, it made you famous."

Catrine sighed.

"Any more news on Sharper?"

Leyan nodded.

"I checked the records, he tried to have you declared deceased two months ago, the paperwork slowed him down. The judge threw out the case yesterday, citing the news story. I'm monitoring his computer and phones as we speak, no real activity. His credit card's getting a workout at his usual bar, seems like he's drowning his sorrows."

Catrine nodded slowly and Leyan looked at her.

"Between the high-g training you do, the medical care you have received and the fighting skills I'm teaching you, you have little to fear. Remember, all the clothes I made for you are smart-fabric, bullet and knife-proof. Relax. The press will find another target soon, just tough it out. If it gets too bad, just join me out here."

Catrine smiled.

"Okay. I'll visit tonight."

A knock on the door interrupted her and the computer screen blanked out. Catrine sighed, stood up and walked across to the door, bracing herself.

"Did I come at a bad time?"

"Phil! What are you doing here?"

Phil stepped in and gave her a quick hug.

"Is that all the welcome I get? What am I doing here? I almost feel unwelcome. I am depressed, I shall commit hari-kari as you are no longer happy to see me!"

Catrine grinned.

"I'm sorry, it's the pack outside. Can I get you a coffee?"

Phil shook his head.

"Cat, I'm afraid I need a favor from you. I have someone I need protecting."

Before Catrine could answer, Phil motioned and a young black boy stepped in. Phil closed the door, locked it and leaned against it.

"Cat, meet Tion Garrich. Ti, this is Catrine Siyann. She's a friend of mine and a damn good fighter. Especially when she's wearing armor."

Catrine stuck her tongue out at Phil and then offered her hand to Ti.

"Pleased to meet you. Phil, what's this about?"

Phil sighed and walked across to the conversational corner, Ti following. Cat walked to the kitchenette, switched on the kettle and grabbed two mugs, then hesitated.

"Ti, do you want coffee or coke?"

"Coke please, Ms Siyann."

Catrine opened the fridge, grabbed a small bottle of coke and put it on a tray before pouring the water and milk into the mugs, giving them a quick stir. Picking up the tray, she walked over to the corner and sat down on the chair, facing Phil and Ti.

"Okay, you want him protected. What's wrong with downtown?"

Phil sighed and picked up his mug, cradling it.

"We've had two attacks. Both missed, but we now _know_ we have a traitor in the station, possibly more than one. I need someone I can trust to watch him. I need him alive for the trial of a certain individual in three weeks time."

"Anyone see you come?"

"No, we came in the back way."

Cat looked at Ti and smiled.

"Okay, I see what you are up against. I have a friend who is teaching me to fight. I can probably take Ti to him, but my friend has _serious_ secrecy issues. Phil, I'll need your word that you will not ask me where I am going or who to. Ti, my friend looks very scary, which is why he is almost a hermit, but I trust him more than anyone, even Phil here. You must promise not to tell of anything you see, however strange. Do I have both of your words on this?"

Both Phil and Ti nodded but Phil's face was alive with curiosity. Just then, Catrine's phone rang.

"Catseye Investigations."

 _"You're bringing him_ here _?"_

"Hi, Leyan. Just thinking of you. Need a great favor."

_"Are you out of your mind?"_

"Young boy, just for a few weeks."

_"You're serious, aren't you."_

"Very."

Leyan sighed. _"Okay."_

"Thanks."

"Is it arranged?" asked Phil.

Catrine put the phone down and smiled.

"All sorted. Phil, leave Ti with me. I'll take him into hiding. Phone me when you want him back, we'll meet at my place. Here's a spare set of keys."

Phil took the keys and nodded before crouching down.

"Ti, I know that this seems scary, but Cat is the one who rescued Elissia Greenwold. Cat, how are you getting Ti out of here?"

"Dad-tee, Phil."

Phil sighed. "Don't ask, don't tell. Got it."

"Not quite, you can tell Jefferson."

.

Ti looked out at the city from the rooftop and then back at Caterine.

"Why are we up here?"

"Waiting for a friend."

Ti gave her an odd look, one more questioning than when she had donned her armor. Catrine looked around and when she turned back, it was to see Ti gawping at the stealth grav-sled settling on the helipad as it rippled into visibility.

"Ah, he's here."

"It… it… how…"

Before Ti could do more than stammer a few words, Catrine pushed him in through the opening hatch and jumped in after him. An instant later, the hatch slammed shut and Catrine stood up, Ti just beside her.

"Thanks, Leyan, but I thought that we'd agreed to wait for nightfall."

"Someone took out a contract on the kid. I detected assassins closing in, another five minutes and they would have arrived at your door."

Ti grabbed at Catrine, his face paling. Catrine looked at him, then realized the problem.

"Ah, Ti, this is Leyan. Leyan, this is Tion Garrich. Ti, Leyan speaks a different language, but I understand him. Apparently your location was leaked and assassins were on their way, Leyan came to pick us up. We're going somewhere very safe. Don't worry, he's agreed to protect you and he's worth an entire marine platoon by himself."

Ti looked up at her, then back at the looming form in the pilots seat.

"What... what is he?"

"The reason for the promise you gave." replied Catrine as she guided Ti to a seat and sat him down. "Leyan, are we stealthed?"

Leyan nodded and Catrine sat down next to Ti.

"Relax, Ti. We're going somewhere completely safe."

.

Ti clambered out of the grav-sled and stared around at the cavern.

"Wow, this is so _cool_! It's like the Batcave, only better! A Catcave!"

"Well, _that_ name will undoubtedly stick." said Catrine dryly as she removed her helmet. A moment later, Leyan climbed out and Ti backed away.

"Oh, this is ridiculous. Ti, Leyan won't hurt you. He… Leyan, do you still have that language thingie?"

"Of course. In the medical bay. Why?"

Catrine turned and crouched down.

"Ti, you don't have to be scared of Leyan, but it would help if you could understand him. If you agree, we have a device that will let you understand what Leyan is saying. I've already used it and I promise it is safe. If you can understand Leyan, I think you'll get to like him."

Ti looked at her.

"It won't hurt?"

"I promise."

Ti looked at her, across to Leyan and then back at her, taking a deep breath and then releasing it before nodding.

.

Ti opened his eyes and blinked owlishly at Leyan.

"Are you alright, young Ti?"

Ti's eyes opened wide and he stared.

"Are you alright?"

"I can understand you!"

"Good. Alright, welcome to, as you named it, the Catcave. I am Leyan, a visitor from another world and your host. How are you feeling?"

"A little tired."

Leyan scooped up Ti and half-carried him out of the medbay.

"Caterine has prepared a room for you to rest in. It has new clothes, an en-suite and a very comfy bed which I think you will need. Let's get you rested and then we'll see what tomorrow brings."

.

"That child's adaptable."

Catrine looked up from where she was sitting.

"He asleep?"

"Yes. Very much so. Poor kid must have been running on nervous energy for the last _week_. Fell asleep before his head hit the pillow."

Before Catrine could answer, her phone rang. She looked at its screen and then opened it.

"What is it, Phil."

"Is Ti safe?"

"Safe and asleep. What happened?"

"Thank the Lord. Where are… no, don't tell me. I'll keep this short. Your flat and office have both been broken into, someone knows you are looking after Ti. Can you confirm you are safe where you are?"

"Yes."

"Thank god. If I'd known how dangerous this job was, I'd never have asked you."

"Phil, he's fine, I'm fine and my friend is fine. Find out who placed the bounty and get them, we'll be good."

"Thank you, Cat. Um… give my regards to Ti. Bye."

"Bye."

Catrine put the phone down and then looked up.

"Apparently the flat has been broken into. It may need fixing."

"I'll deal with that tonight."

Cat nodded and turned her attention back to the news-screen.

* * *

.

"Are you alright?"

Phil's face looked out of the computer monitor and Catrine smiled at him.

"We're fine. Ti, can you come over here?"

Ti looked across from the high-g exercise area and then trotted over, standing by Catrine to look at the screen.

"Hello, Mr Chin."

Phil seemed to sag without moving as he exhaled noisily.

"Ti, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Mr Chin. I like this place, it's cool."

Phil nodded and then looked to one side. Catrine quickly accessed the spy-tech that Leyan had installed and saw Jefferson standing near the door of the office.

"The trial has been delayed another week due to legal problems, but the judge got impatient and gave a deadline for bail. In a fortnight, the trial starts. Can you hold out till then, Cat?"

"No problem. How's Jefferson holding up?"

"Jeffer... why do you ask?"

"Well, it seems polite given that he's just inside the doorway."

Phil froze for a second while Jefferson gaped.

"I _won't_ ask how you knew that. Your vanishing act was incredible, by the way. We managed to round up almost a dozen hit-men who have been searching for you, Ti. How's it feel to be famous?"

Ti grinned. "When I'm old enough, I'm going to be working for Catseye Investigations. They've got really cool stuff and I like Catrine's friend."

Phil smiled in relief. "That's great to hear, Ti. Cat, your step-dad has been in contact, trying to confirm your location. Do you want me to…"

"No!"

Phil blinked at the vehemence of the reply.

"No. I saw him kill my mother and he tried to kill me!"

Phil didn't move for several seconds.

"You know that he was robbed just after you vanished?"

"No he wasn't. My friend and I merely liberated all the things my mother had left me, except for the house. We left _his_ stuff there."

Phil blinked again, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline.

"He really killed your mother?"

"Yes. She found out he was having an affair and threatened to divorce him, so he killed her. I was lucky to escape. If he tries to contact me, I'll bloody well _kill_ him!"

Phil managed to lower his eyebrows.

"I'll pass the word that he's not to be trusted, but the case was declared closed. I know you too well to ask if you are sure, you don't make false accusations."

Catrine closed her eyes and tried to unclench her fists. Opening her eyes again, she saw Ti giving her a worried look, albeit one mixed with a different emotion that she could not understand. A moment later Phil resumed speaking.

"This puts a whole new twist on it. Cat, I'm sorry. Ti, have you told Cat about why you are in hiding?"

"No. You said not to tell anyone."

"Well, I think that Cat can know. Cat, Ti saw his dad kill his mother and sister. Ti's dad is an underworld kingpin, we're trying to take him down. Ti is vital for that."

Catrine nodded slowly, then frowned as a thought occurred.

"I see. Phil, you don't seem completely surprised by what I said."

"About your step-father? I knew there was something odd, I've known who you really were since the week we met and I ran your prints from a glass you used. When you said you were an orphan, I knew you didn't want to talk about him, so I kept it quiet. I still don't understand how you managed to modify the national database later that week, though."

"Thanks. You were right."

"Good. I'll talk to you in a week about plans for getting Ti to court."

* * *

.

Phil stopped pacing around the flat and glanced at his watch to confirm the time again. When he looked up, he almost fell over as the floor-to-ceiling mirror in front of him rippled and opened to reveal the entrance behind. An instant later, Catrine stepped through, her sword in one hand.

"All clear?"

Phil nodded, unable to force his vocal cords to work. A second later, Ti stepped through, clad in armor similar to that which Catrine was wearing but with a bag slung over his shoulder. Behind him, the mirror rippled and closed.

"What the _hell_ was that?"

"Memory-metal. My friend came up with it to hide the entrance. What's the security situation?"

Phil took a deep breath and redirected his thoughts.

"We have four armoured vans parked outside, all visual lines obscured. Jefferson called in SWAT from three other cities to provide the escort, we still haven't discovered the extent of the penetration. You get into one of the vans, we drive into the underground parking lot and unload you there. What's the armor about?"

Catrine grinned. "It's bulletproof and stabproof. Tiger needs protecting for now and my friend had some time on his hands."

"Tiger?"

Ti grinned and nodded.

"You call Catrine 'Cat', so I added the first part of my surname to how you call me. Tion Garrich, Ti Gar, Tiger. You see?"

Phil nodded and then walked to the door.

"Chief, it's time."

"What are you talking about, there's still no sign of them!"

Catrine and Ti smiled at each other and joined Phil at the doorway. At the sight of the poleaxed expression on Jefferson's face, Ti burst out laughing.

.

The noises of the city seemed muted as Cat and Phil sat opposite each other near the door of the lorry while Ti leaned against Catrine. Phil glanced at Ti and then returned his attention to Catrine.

"Cat, that armor suits you, somehow. Isn't it heavy?"

"No, lightweight alloy. Very strong, very tough. My friend made it."

"And Ti's as well?"

"Yes."

Phil sighed.

"That's going to cause some serious problems, trying to take Ti seriously dressed in that outfit."

Cat shrugged. "This armor provides far better protection than a bulletproof vest. Don't knock it. Besides, he has a change of clothes in the bag."

Before Phil could reply, the lorry suddenly swerved and an explosion echoed from outside. Phil grabbed his radio.

"Anyone, what the hell was that?"

_"…ead lorry destroyed. Taking eva…"_

Just as the voice was cut off, the lorry jackknifed as if hit by a giant hammer, toppling over. Phil crashed into the side of the lorry and slumped as the vehicle crashed onto its side. Picking herself up, Cat looked at Phil, activating her scanners.

"Is he…"

"Still alive, just knocked out. Leyan, are you monitoring?"

For a second which seemed like an eternity there was no answer and then a familiar voice issued from her mastoid implant.

_"I have you on screen. You're three blocks away from the courthouse but all four lorries are down. The front and back are burning, yours is toppled and the fourth has crashed into a building. Suggest you get out of there and get to the courthouse on foot."_

Catrine nodded and unsheathed her sword, slicing through the door hinges in a single swipe. Climbing out, she glanced around at the growing chaos and then closed the lower visor of her helmet. Ti, his helmet already sealed, followed her.

_"Ti, Kitten, head north. Go, I have suspicious groups heading towards you from the east and south. I'll get the stealth-sled..."_

"No!" interrupted Catrine. "Feed us data but stay put. Remember, you trained us in high-g, we'll cope. Ti, let's move!"

Matching action to word, Catrine started to run towards the courthouse, Ti keeping pace with her.

_"The police are currently trying to respond, but their system's been hit by a custom logic-bomb. I'm deploying binary anti-virals to counter, but it will take a while."_

Ti glanced up at Catrine and then ahead to the distant courthouse as they wove through the crowd.

_"JUMP!"_

At Leyan's snapped order, both Catrine and Ti leapt, their high-g musculature lifting them several meters into the air. As they rose, a black car sliced through a gap in the crowd and plowed into the wall just below them. Cat caught a flagpole and felt Ti's grip on her leg.

"Go up. Hit the rooftops and run!"

Catrine pulled herself to the roof-edge, then Ti clambered up her onto the roof and helped pull her over the parapet. Catrine stood up and then staggered as a bullet bounced off her back. Without even looking round, Catrine started to run along the edge of the roof, Ti by her side. Ahead of them, a dark line marked an alley.

"Leyan…"

_"It's okay. You can make it, both of you. Ti, go! Kitten, go!"_

On Leyan's command, Catrine sprinted forwards and launched herself over the alley. For a breathless moment, she seemed to hang above the deep chasm, then the far roof raced to meet her and she landed in a roll.

_"Good! Fire escape slightly to your left, get down it and then across the road, the main entrance is there. Several cops are waiting, I have the whole scene from three different angles."_

"Spy-remotes?"

_"Helicopters. CNN, Fox and Channel Seventeen. Gunmen coming up behind you, get down fast! Drop and roll, it's only two floors and your suits will help."_

Ti fearlessly vaulted over the parapet and Catrine followed him instantly, both of them landing on the pavement in a way that would have amazed her had she had time to think about it. Without even pausing, they launched out of their crouches like sprinters, heading to the courthouse. Catrine saw Ti hurdle a car before her own reflexes launched her into the air, using a car bonnet as a launch-pad to leap over a van going the other way. Catrine and Ti reached the sidewalk and sprinted up the stairs in unison, past the staring guards and into the entrance hall before stopping and leaning against the wall. Opening her helmet, Catrine started taking deep breaths, ignoring the sudden hubbub surrounding them both.

"That was cool! Can we do that again?"

Catrine looked down at Ti.

"I hope not, Tiger, I really hope not."

Catrine turned her attention to the television screens and sighed at the sight of her and Ti racing across the rooftops.

"God, this is going to be _so_ hard to explain."

.

Ti watched his father being led away, his face expressionless but his hand gripping Catrine's with almost painful intensity. Catrine looked down at him, then made up her mind.

"Ti, the judge is still here."

Ti looked up at her, his eyes questioning.

"That man is not worthy of being your father and I don't think you could settle with another family easily. Want to join our mutual friend and myself?"

Ti's eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face.

"Can I?"

"I don't see why not."

Ti jolted and turned to look at Phil, who had somehow appeared behind them despite the fact that his right arm was in a sling and his head was bandaged.

"Tiger, I think that you would do well with Cat and her friend, especially after seeing that acrobatics display you two pulled off. Cat, I'll talk to the judge for you, but for now, look after Ti."

Ti looked back at Catrine, his eyes filling with unshed tears of joy.

* * *

.

**Chapter Four**

"Cat? Tiger?"

"Come in, Phil." called Catrine, looking up from the paperwork on her desk. Ti paused in the middle of his exercising across the room and turned to face their visitor.

"Phil, what's the case?"

Phil walked over to the chair that Ti had pulled out for him. Sitting down, he absently rubbed his right arm and leaned back.

"Another kidnapping. Jefferson sent me to ask for your help. This one's got every agency in America co-operating."

" _Jefferson_ sent… Who the hell got kidnapped?"

"The president's daughter, Alice. There's a state-wide lock-down with all flights out suspended. The National guard has been mobilized and is securing the borders, NASA have re-orbited a dozen satellites to provide twenty-four hour coverage."

"Why us?"

Phil glanced across at Ti.

"Greenwold and Garrich. Those two cases made you flavor of the year. City Hall has been designated HQ for the search. How long before you can come?"

"You go ahead. We'll be there as soon as we've got changed."

"Full armor?"

"Of course."

Phil nodded and rose. "This case is vital. We have no idea who and only a slight idea of how. The President is already at the on his way."

.

The guard outside the City Hall snapped to attention as Catrine and Ti walked up the stairs. Walking inside, they were met by Phil.

"This way. No new developments. Cat, how's your friend?"

"He knows how important this is, he's already scouring the Net for us."

Phil nodded and pushed his way into the crowded room. As Catrine and Ti entered, the noise suddenly died. Phil nodded at the three men sitting at the head of the largest table.

"Gentlemen, This is Cat, Catrine Siyann and her son, Tion Siyann, also known as Tiger, both from Catseye Investigations. Cat, Tiger, these three are Director Finch of the FBI, Director Johnson of the Secret Service and General White of the Armed Forces."

Finch rose and bowed to them.

"Ms Siyann, Mr Siyann, I assume Mr Chin has filled you in on the basics." At Catrine's nod, he continued. "We have no leads except for a demand for us to pull our forces out of several countries. Mr Chin here insisted we bring you in, he's put his career on the line for you. I hope you're worth it."

Catrine straightened to attention. "We are."

.

_"Imagery from the security cameras."_

Cat and Tiger sat in the corner, watching the feed as relayed by Leyan. A black car drove into the field of view and suddenly flipped onto its side as a rocket hit it low on the drivers door. The following car started to turn, but a second explosion shunted it into a wall. An instant later, a half-dozen masked figures ran out of a nearby building, yanked open the car door and pulled out a dazed teenage girl, dragging her out of the field of view of the camera.

"Where did they go?"

_"Multi-story car park. Security feed inoperable, probably sabotaged. Fourteen vehicles left prior to lock-down, I'm trying to track them all now."_

Tiger nodded slowly.

"This was well-planned. They knew exactly what they were doing. Any tunnels connecting the car park to anywhere else?"

Leyan remained silent for a few seconds.

_"Yes, a storm drain. Leads to the river."_

"Check for boating activity."

A minute passed and then Leyan snarled.

_"Got them. Two men, one large bundle. Just the right size to be Alice. Men climbed into a boat, tracking its final location now."_

Cat and Ti looked at each other.

"Think it could be her?"

Ti shrugged and triggered his comm again.

"Any word on those cars?"

_"Tracked five of them, no match with Alice. Still checking the others, but cross-feeding security camera data is not bringing any matches. Probably the damned boat."_

"Where did it go?"

Instead of an answer, a map appeared with a flashing icon on the waterfront. A moment later, a track appeared, heading away from the boathouse out to sea.

_"Thermal disruption, looks like a subsurface turbulence caused by a submarine of some description, but very low-tech. They might be trying to smuggle her out."_

"Any vessels in the path?"

_"Three. Sub located. Get over here, the computer just finished the analysis, those cars were either decoys or not involved. I'll prep the grav-sled."_

Cat and Ti stood up and headed for the door, only to find themselves face-to-face with Phil.

"You have something."

Cat and Ti glanced at each other before Cat replied.

"A possibility we have to check out."

"Like Greenwold. I'm coming too."

"Not a good idea."

"Try and stop me." stated Chin.

.

"Will he be alright?"

Cat shrugged. "He'll be fine, once discovered and untied. I didn't know you had an energy stun-gun integrated into your gauntlet."

"I gave it to him, he thought it was a good idea."

Cat turned her attention to Leyan.

"I should have known it. What's the latest on that sub?"

"It's surfaced. Transfer occurring now, looks like the girl's awake and struggling. Fishing ship, registered to Panama but actually owned by Iran, probably one of those mad mullahs playing games."

"How long before nightfall?"

Leyan glanced at Ti, then smiled slowly, his fangs glinting.

"Two hours. Go in when dark?"

Ti nodded and then frowned.

"We need some way of getting her off without using the sled. Leyan, is there a small boat in the boathouse that sub came from which we can grab?"

For an answer, Leyan tilted the stealthed grav-sled round and pushed the throttle forwards.

.

.

The ship below was dark with only its navigation lights showing. In infra-red, the sight was completely different.

"My god, there must be at least a hundred of them in there."

"One hundred and fifteen, including Alice. She seems to be in the main hold, twenty guards. We'll need to hit hard and fast. Leyan, can we hit the ship with an EM pulse to darken it?"

"Yes, why?"

"We pulse the ship, then drop to the deck and get into the hold fast."

"I loaded a breaching ring earlier, it can open a hole within two seconds."

"We drop in, take out the guards and then Ti and I get Alice to the boat that the sled drops just there beforehand, magnetically moored behind the stern. You cover our escape then get back into the grav-sled and get away. Once you're clear, give me a signal and I'll call in the cavalry."

Ti grinned. "Sounds like a plan. Let's do it."

.

Alice looked round at the guards in the hold with her. The rough-looking men all held guns with the type of nonchalance she had only seen in her father's bodyguards and professional soldiers, although the men differed in that they kept looking at her and making comments which caused the others to laugh in coarse, crude tones. Occasionally they would use obscene hand-signals in the jokes, causing Alice to cringe against the chair to which she was tied. Suddenly, a hand descended on her shoulder.

"So you are the whore-daughter of the leader of the Great Satan, America. Where are your bodyguards and protectors now, child of a devil?"

The hand shifted its grip and Alice tried to resist as it grasped her chin and angled her head up to face the robed man.

"I shall oversee your penance personally. My men shall slake their lust in you and you will be whipped for your immorality before being stoned for crimes against Islam. Your country shall see how the true faith punishes infidels."

"Why?"

The man seemed puzzled by her whispered question.

"Why? Because your fate will prove the holiness of… What?

For an instant, Alice thought that her vision had failed and then she realised that the hold had been plunged into darkness. An instant later, a bright flash from above briefly lit the hold and several voices cried in agony as a disc of metal crashed down, its edges glowing. The man holding her released his grip as several more voices cried out in agony, punctuated by noises strangely like knives slicing through steak. A moment later, she felt her bonds being loosened and a new, teenaged-sounding male voice spoke.

"Alice, don't panic. We need you to be brave, we're getting you out of here. We have a small boat, we just have to get to it. Hold onto me, my mum will deal with anyone we meet."

Alice found herself half-lifted into a standing position, resting on the shoulder of someone shorter than her yet incredibly strong. A second later, they started to move.

"Hold on to me, let me protect you. We disabled this ship to get you out."

The voice paused as two masculine shouts sounded ahead of them, followed by two very brief screams.

"Okay, just step over this obstacle, that's good. We're almost at some stairs. Careful, just put one foot forwards, now the other."

Letting the voice describe the path she could not see, Alice started to climb the invisible stairs.

.

The darkened boat receded behind them and Catrine activated the phone function of her helmet.

"City hall."

"This is Catrine Siyann. Put me through to Director Finch. If he quibbles, get me Director Johnson instead."

There was a brief silence, then a new voice spoke.

"Miss Siyann, I hope that you have a good reason for this."

"We've located Alice. If you have a visual unit, I can relay imagery. Give me the frequency."

After a moment of silence, Finch responded with a number which Cat instantly set the transmitter to, turning to look at the boat behind them.

"What are we looking at?"

Cat smiled. "That is an Iranian fishing boat which recently rendezvoused with a small submarine. We have proof that Alice was transferred across to it."

"Shit! Hold position, we'll send the Navy to intercept. Good work…"

Finch's voice tailed off as Cat turned her head to where Ti was comforting Alice in the bow of the small boat.

"The fanatics on board took several dozen casualties when we boarded. We sabotaged their systems, they won't be able to escape you. In the meantime, can we have an escort waiting for us at the dock?"

From the other end, Cat could only hear odd choking noises, then a new voice spoke.

"This is General White, several vessels are vectoring in now. By the way, we found Detective Chin in a cupboard. Do you know anything about that?"

"Ah, yes. We needed to move fast and he would have only slowed us down. Please relay my apologies to him."

A bass chuckle interrupted her. "After what you just pulled off, I think that the President himself would be happy to stand between you and that irate young man of yours."

.

"I want to meet this _friend_ of yours."

Cat looked up at the doorway of her flat where Phil was standing, his arms folded across his chest. Cat let out a sigh.

"Phil, I don't think you could cope with him."

Phil stepped into the flat and closed the door behind him.

"Dammit, Cat. I need to know why you were willing to turn me into a laughing stock rather than let me accompany you! I need to know how this friend of yours led you to where Alice was being held and I need to know how you and Ti could make a hole in a ship's deck like the one which still has White and his scientists scratching their heads! That level of skill and tech just isn't human!"

As Phil stepped forwards, Ti stepped into the room.

"Cat, Leyan says that if Phil makes the same promise I made, and if you trust him to keep it, he doesn't mind."

Phil turned to look at Ti, who shrugged.

"Phil, you have to swear that you will never tell about what you see. That you will not discuss it anywhere except here, the office or where Leyan lives and even then, not to anyone but Leyan, Ti or myself. I don't care if you think it may pose a threat to planetary security or anything like that, you must give your word and damn well keep it. If you break your word, I'll kill you myself."

Phil met her eyes, then seemed to slump.

"I knew that it was odd, but a promise like that? I must… give me a day or two to think about it."

Cat nodded and opened the door. "See me again when you have decided."

* * *

.

"I'm in. You have my word."

Cat looked up from her early-morning coffee to where a familiar shape stood in the front door. Phil met her gaze and placed his hand over his heart.

"You have my word of honor and my solemn promise that anything you show me remains strictly between us."

Cat nodded and finished her coffee. As she carried the empty cup through to the kitchen, Phil looked around.

"Where's Ti?"

"Waiting."

.

Phil stared round as they stepped out of the vertical lift. Cat stepped onto the raised dais before the tunnel with its metallic rings and motioned for Phil to join her.

"Have you ever parachuted?"

"No, why?"

Cat sighed. "Hold my hand and try not to panic. This form of transport takes some getting used to, but it's perfectly safe."

As Phil joined her on the dais, the metal rings started to glow and a low humming noise filled the tunnel. An instant later, gravity seemed to fade and Phil grabbed onto Cat's arm with both hands as they rose slowly. Cat grinned at his shocked expression.

"Ti loves this ride. Get ready."

Phil gave her an incredulous looked which turned to pure panic as gravity returned, except at right-angles to how it had been and they seemed to fall along the tunnel. As they accelerated, Cat laughed and glanced across to Phil.

"Don't panic!" she shouted. "We're perfectly safe, the whole system uses capacitors so that the power won't fail."

Phil didn't answer but his grip tightened as the gravity suddenly reversed itself and they decelerated to a stop above a second dais set just before a metal wall. As normal gravity slowly reasserted itself, Phil collapsed onto his front and his hands grabbed at the smooth metal. Cat shook her head and then pulled him to his feet.

"Stop panicking, Phil. You wanted this. Now, pull yourself together."

Phil gave her a shocked look, took a jagged breath and then exhaled and breathed in again, trying to regain his normal equanimity. Cat gave him a few moments and then walked over to the doorway set in the wall. As she approached, the door slid open and Phil followed her through, his eyes wide as he saw the main cavern and the various technological marvels adorning it.

"Welcome to the Catcave!"

Phil's head snapped up and he stared at Ti who waved at him and descended from the balcony. He walked over and waved his hand to indicate the surroundings.

"What do you think?"

"I think I now understand the secrecy."

Ti grinned as Leyan stepped up behind the oblivious Phil.

"No, you don't. Not yet, but when you turn round and see Leyan, you will."

Phil frowned at Ti, turned and promptly collapsed.

.

"Are you alright?"

Phil opened his eyes and looked blankly at the ceiling before it was eclipsed by Ti's face.

"You fainted. Probably culture shock or something."

Phil slowly sat up, looking round. Ti continued.

"You're in the medbay. We gave you a neural boost, you'll understand Leyan now. How do you feel?"

Phil looked back at Ti, his face pale.

"Is this a joke or something?"

Ti shook his head.

"No. Leyan's an alien who crashed in Lake Ontario. He helped Cat escape her dad and set up a base here. He helps us to solve hard cases using his technology."

At Phil's stare, he shrugged.

"Yeah, it sounds weird, but can you explain that great ride here otherwise?"

Phil sagged and lay back down.

"Damn, I never expected anything like this."

"Yeah, it kind of baked my noodle for a while as well. It all worked out."

"What the hell do I do now? No-one would believe me if I tried to tell them and there's no way I could remain happy as a cop with something like this here."

"Join Catseye. Cat likes you, you like her and once you get used to Leyan, you'll find yourself enjoying this. Just don't complain about the high-g training and implants."

Phil looked at Ti, one eyebrow lifted and Ti grinned.

"How else can you become as strong as Cat and me? Only one thing, we need to come up with a code-name for you. What's your full name?

"Philip Anthony Chin."

Ti grinned. "Panther!"

* * *

.

**Chapter Five**

The mugger sprinted down the alley, ignoring the outcry behind him and trying to outpace the pursuing cop. As he rounded the corner, his mind refused for a second to acknowledge the presence of three cat-like beings. His hesitation proved an error and he collapsed in a heap, knocked out by a punch so fast he literally did not see it coming. The cop rounded the corner and tripped over the mugger, landing on his ample belly. As he rolled over, he saw what looked like a giant cat vanishing over the parapet of the building above him.

.

Phil pulled off his helmet and swore.

"Three hours scouting that damned area and we almost get rumbled by a damned mugger?"

Cat shrugged and moved across the roof as Phil replaced his helmet.

"These things happen. Remind me to tell you of my third case sometime. The mugger won't be talking for a while, we can still do our mission."

Ti nodded and then glanced back down to where two uniformed cops were standing over the mugger, scratching their heads. Stepping back, he turned to face the other two.

"Can we see the window from here?"

Phil moved sideways and then froze. A small hand-movement activated his helmet-camera and the other two saw their target enter the flat opposite. A smaller woman embraced him and then half-pulled him to the next room where a man who looked like an slightly younger version of the one they were following lay in a bed, medical equipment attached to his arms and torso.

"Well, looks like he isn't having an affair after all. I wonder why he didn't tell his wife about this."

Cat shook her head.

"Unlike you, I talked to our client and got some background. She detests his brother and he knows it. Looks like he's in serious medical trouble. Leyan?"

"Accessing records. Got it, cancer. A very nasty version, wildfire variant. Doctor says he has no longer than a couple of weeks left."

"Can you heal him?" asked Ti.

"No. Based on the last scans in his files, the cancer is too extensive. It would require cryostasis and clone-based rebuilding of the sort that can only be done in a hyper-medcenter. The technology simply doesn't exist here."

Cat sighed and waved for the others to withdraw.

"We got what we came for, even if we don't like it. I'll tell her she has no need to worry but that her husband will soon need a great deal of comforting."

"That's a task I don't envy you."

Cat nodded in response to Phil's comment.

.

_"He's back, five o'clock. Still keeping his distance."_

Cat managed not to snarl as Leyan confirmed what she suspected, that her step-father had indeed decided to come after her.

"Any ideas?"

Leyan paused and then his voice returned.

_"I've just vectored Panther in, he's almost in covering position. Tiger's waiting in the office, he reports that another five applicants have arrived. I've alerted him and he's armoring up ready in case something happens."_

Cat continued towards the tower where their new offices were located. Walking up the short flight of stairs to the ground floor doors which were emblazoned with the Catseye Investigation logo, she stepped through and breathed a sigh of relief. Walking across the lobby, nodding to the receptionist behind the desk, she walked through the waiting room and into her office where Ti was waiting.

"Mom, Leyan told me Sharper was nearby. Give me the word and I'll…"

Cat stopped him with a sharp head-shake and moved to beside her desk.

"I know he's here, he won't dare do anything for now. Tonight, I'll go directly to Leyan's."

Ti nodded and removed his helmet.

"Understood. What about the interviewees?"

Cat smiled as a thought occurred to her.

"Helmet on, Tiger. Show them in in the order they arrived, fully armoured, let's see how they react. Leyan, I'll need their files."

"Already uploading." replied Leyan from the computer.

Ti grinned and bowed before donning his helmet and striding out of the door.

.

The door opened and the last of the five applicants stepped through. Cat rose and smiled at the black-skinned woman who towered above Ti.

"Good morning, Ms Patricia Umana. Please, come in."

The woman walked over to Cat's desk and her hand engulfed Cat's in a firm grip.

"I am pleased to meet you and honored that you decided to see me, Ms Siyann."

Cat smiled and sat, the woman followed suit.

"So, tell me why you think we should employ you as a partner instead of a contractee like three of the others."

A wide grin spread across the black face. "Several reasons. First, your public record shows that you and your adopted son often take cases involving physical danger. I am skilled in Aikido and Ju-Jitsu, holding a black belt in each. I speak four languages, am an olympic-level sharpshooter and I am trained in emergency medicine."

Cat nodded slowly, her face set.

"An impressive resume, Miss Umana…"

"Please, call me Triss."

"Triss, then. However, two of the other applicants had similar resumes. Why are you different?"

"Apart from being a woman?" she laughed. "Well, I can infiltrate areas you, as a white woman, would stand out in. I am a good driver and can navigate well. I don't hold back from doing what needs to be done and my sense of humor is solid."

Triss paused and Cat nodded.

"You make good points, now let me tell you about the catch."

Triss raised an eyebrow.

"One of the founding partners of Catseye likes his anonymity. Only myself, my son and Phil Chin have ever met him, which may be why the others employed here call us the _insiders_. It is very unlikely that you will ever be able to communicate with him, but you must be willing to trust data sent by him. If we do employ you as our first new full partner, you will promise to make no attempt to find out who or where he is. Can you agree to this?"

Triss frowned slightly and then slowly nodded.

"I don't like it, but if you insist, I will comply."

Cat leaned back and smiled.

"That was a very honest answer. Congratulations, it got you the job."

Triss looked absolutely stunned for several seconds and then her face lit with a broad smile.

"You start tomorrow."

* * *

.

"There's a suspicious man outside, across the road. Six foot tall, handsome, dark hair and mustache, no beard. Scar along his right cheek."

Phil nodded, acknowledging Triss' statement.

"We know him. Name's Reginald Sharper, he's the ex-sheriff of Newtown, a small town in the east of America. He married Cat's mother just before her unfortunate demise, Cat fled from him. Although unproven in court, it's damn certain that he killed Cat's mother to get her money. He's bad news."

Triss' eyes widened and then a stern frown settled on her face.

"Anything I can do?"

"Not yet, Triss." answered Cat from behind her. Triss half-turned and then did a double-take at Cat's armour.

"Damn, I though that the rig your son was wearing was a fancy dress of some sort, yet you have one too. What _is_ that thing?"

"Armour. Bullet-proof and stab-proof. Helmet contains filters against all known toxins and boasts visual enhancement. With Sharper out there, I'm taking no risks."

Phil looked up and smiled wryly.

"We have another case, Cat, a big one. I was going to suggest you take Triss with you, but it'll look odd if you are armoured and she isn't."

"No problem." announced Ti as he stepped in, his arms filled with fabric and alloy plates. "Package for you, Triss, courtesy of our silent partner. Mom, he said that the armour contains basic comm and has full protection against bullets and blades. He also sent a halberd for it. It's still in our office."

Triss accepted the bundle with a stunned expression on her face. Cat sighed and motioned for Triss to follow her.

"Let's get you kitted out, Triss. I'll run you through the basics, then we go."

.

The sudden brightness of the day after the dim lighting of the underground garage seemed dazzling for an instant and then Cat's eyes adjusted. A gap in the traffic allowed them to pull out, across the road, Cat caught a glimpse of Sharper's chagrined expression. Beside her, Triss craned her head for a better view.

"Think he'll be there when we get back?"

Cat shrugged and concentrated on negotiating the traffic. Triss sat back in her seat and then looked at the technology in front of her.

"This is a serious piece of kit. Computer terminal, military-grade GPS, radio scanner with encryption/decryption capabilities, powerful engine. How much did this thing cost?"

Cat glanced over, a wry smile on her face.

"It cost seven kays, second hand. My silent friend upgraded it personally. The tech in this car would raise the price to about twelve million if it ever hit the market."

Triss' jaw dropped and she half-turned to stare at Cat.

"What the _hell_ is in this thing?"

"Prototype in-wheel electric engines, superconductive power capacitors, five thousand mile range. Armour plated shell with microthin solar panels, bulletproof windows, reinflating self-sealing tyres, that sort of thing. This is actually the first time we've used it on a case."

Triss sat back, a poleaxed expression on her face.

.

The car purred to a stop outside the large mansion and Triss and Cat got out, turning to face the main entrance where a butler gazed down his nose at them. Cat tapped a control on her belt and the car doors closed and locked. Walking round the car to join Triss, the two of them strode up the stairs and halted in front of the butler.

"Catseye Investigations, here to see General White."

The butler simply stared at them for a few seconds before answering.

"Please follow me, the General is expecting you."

The butler turned and marched down the hall, his back straight.

"I don't like him. Did you see how he looked at us?"

Cat grinned. "Probably expecting us to wear formal gowns or short dresses, the notion of women in armour may have come as a shock to him."

The butler stopped by a door and opened it. Cat and Triss stepped through and stopped suddenly at the sight of the man they had come to meet fighting hand-to-hand against a dozen black-clad opponents. Cat blinked, then hurled herself directly into the fray, using her high-g strength to hurl the dark fighters away from the general. A series of grunts and impacts announced Triss' progress and then Cat was beside the General, having picked up and thrown to one side the man who had tried to grab him from behind. General White glanced at her and then raised one hand, holding it straight up. The fighters froze and White turned to Cat, his face unreadable.

"A normal person would have waited until _after_ I had finished my exercises, not hurled themselves into it."

Cat shrugged and removed her helmet, shaking out her hair. White glared at her for another few seconds before a smile crossed his face.

"I knew you were good, but that was incredible. Strength, speed and agility. You must train constantly for that."

Cat nodded, a faint smile on her face. White waved his hand and the other men all bowed and filed out of the room. White wiped his brow and then motioned for them to follow him through an open door into a luxurious study. Waving them to a pair of chairs before the desk, White sat down behind the desk and leaned back in his chair.

"I expect you are wondering why I asked you here when I'm the one in charge of the military. A problem has arisen, one that needs a completely different approach. You proved yourself during the kidnapping of the President's daughter, I hope that your patriotism will help me on this."

Cat raised one eyebrow and White leaned forwards.

"Miss Siyann, I have done research into your past. Word of your accusation against Reginald Sharper reached me and I had some of my men do research, including a second, _covert_ , autopsy. I have the results of the investigation in this folder here, they prove what you claim. Whether you accept the task I have or not, the file is yours."

Cat nodded slowly.

"The mission is simple. We know that Iran is seeking revenge on us for foiling their plan. We know they have smuggled in a nuclear weapon and intend to detonate it when the President gives his speech in three days time. We cannot find it but we need to."

Cat exchanged glances with Triss and then looked back at White.

"What information do you have?"

White handed over a small folder.

"Entry port, ship used and the leader of the cell with the weapon. Where they are now, we don't know. Could be anywhere in the country."

Cat donned her glasses and glanced at the pages, knowing that Leyan was using the technology in her lenses to photocopy the data and start using it. A small icon flashed briefly as she looked at the last page and she returned her gaze to White.

"We'll do our best, General. If you don't mind, we'll head out now and bring the others in on it."

White nodded and rose to escort them back to the front door. As he laid his hand on the door, he paused and turned to face them.

"Miss Siyann, one other thing. Your silent partner, Mr Leyan was it? Please pass a message to him. Any tech he can spare for us would be welcome, especially what he gave you to slice through that ship deck. My scientists are _still_ scratching their heads and contradicting themselves over that one."

.

As the car pulled out through the gates of the mansion, Triss reached for the console in front of her, only to have it blink into life before she could touch it. The rising screen glowed and Phil nodded to her from it.

_"Good work, Cat, Triss. We got it all through the comm-links. Leyan is already scouring the Net and slicing into the NSA records, but he thinks that the device is in Washington already. It turns out that the mad mullah you killed was the illegitimate son of one of the top dogs in Iran, revenge has to play a big part in this. Ti is prepping transport, but we may have a slight problem."_

"Oh?"

_"Yes. Leyan reports that the radiation detectors on the satellites are not sensitive enough to locate the bomb. He's trying to link them into a composite array, but he's risking discovery. His signals can't be tracked, but if the NSA figures out how he's dancing through their security, they'll slow him down."_

Cat nodded as she expertly wove between a pair of lorries.

_"Ti's volunteered to get local data from Washington, Leyan's unveiled something for him to use. If he finds it, we'll join him and defuse the thing."_

Triss stared at the screen and then at Cat who simply nodded.

_"Triss, we'll need you to hold the fort while we deal with this. Sorry, but even with your abilities, you could not keep up with us."_

Triss nodded.

"I know. I saw how Cat went through those men like a rampaging bear."

Phil raised one eyebrow before the screen went blank.

.

The computer screen lit with Leyan's image and Cat stared at him, then glanced at where Triss was at her own desk outside the office within easy hearing range. A second later, her phone rang and she picked it up.

"Hello?"

_"Cat, Ti reports success with his scans, Grab Phil then meet me at the Catcave. Your armor's in the Grav-sled."_

As Leyan's voice sounded through the phone, his image on the computer was replaced by a map of Washington with a flashing icon marking a location near the White House. An instant later, both the phone and computer screen went dead. Cat sat still for a split-second, then rose to her feet.

"PHIL!"

.

Triss started as Cat's shout echoed through the office. An instant later Cat raced through the outer office, opening the door that Triss had not been through. An second after that, Phil appeared and raced through the door, half-closing it behind them. Standing up, Triss walked to the door and opened it, revealing shelves of weapons and technology as well as a total absence of any other people. She slowly advanced into the room, looking around, trying to work our where both Cat and Phil had vanished to, carefully examining the walls and floor but finding no signs of any seams which could indicate a trapdoor.

Finally giving up after almost thirty minutes, she walked back into the outer office, closing the door behind her, then stopped and stared at the television screen where a reporter was talking exitedly.

_".. confirm that both Cat Siyann and Philip Chin from Catseye Investigations have just entered the building in full armor. Even now, SWAT teams and special units from the army are taking positions around the house. Excuse me sir, what is going on?"_

"No comment."

The reporter's next question was interrupted by a hail of gunfire from inside the house which shattered several ground-floor windows and sent everyone diving for cover. An instant later, the camera zoomed in on a strange black aircraft which had dropped from the sky to in front of the building and was unleashing what looked like laser beams at the frontage of the house. The gunfire tailed off and the small aircraft seemed to flex before assuming a humanoid form and landing. Striding up to the house, it ripped off the entire front wall. A second hail of gunfire lashed at the robot before it responded with a flash of light that caused the few mobile armed men to collapse like puppets with their strings cut.

"What the hell is that thing? What's going on?"

As if in response to her question, two armoured figures appeared carrying a cylindrical device between them, a device with a sword stuck straight through. One of the army units, clad in hazmat suits, closed in and took control of the device. As they took it to a waiting transport, the robot jumped into the air and flexed into its aircraft shape, accelerating away. The reporter stared after it and then remembered her job.

_"Whatever has just happened here seems to be over, although it has raised far more questions than answers. The unusual aircraft, the device pierced by a sword and the sheer number of armed units deployed can mean only that a crisis of national importance has been averted. When we find out what the crisis was and how it was solved, we will tell you. This is Linda Marjory, Channel Twelve News, Washington."_

As the studio presenters took over the story, Triss sat down feeling drained.

"Oh girl, what have you gotten yourself into?"

* * *

.

**Chapter Six**

"NUCLEAR ATTACK AVERTED IN WASHINGTON"

The headline almost screamed from the top of the page of the newspaper on Cat's desk and Triss raised her gaze to meet the unapologetic eyes of her employer.

"General White left a message for you thanking you for the two rings and asking if he can purchase one of those strange planes."

A smile briefly caressed Cat's lips and she sat back in her chair, saying nothing.

"I know that I promised, but what you did yesterday goes beyond anything that sane people consider possible. Where did you get the Star Trek technology from, or should I not ask?"

Cat looked at her consideringly before sighing.

"I'm afraid that for now, you should not ask."

Triss nodded and turned to walk back to her desk. As she reached the doorway, she turned and looked back at her employer.

"Any further instructions, or shall I just run interference on the pack outside and keep the informants busy?"

"That would be appreciated. I have lunch with Director Finch at one, after that we'll discuss how to handle the mob."

Triss nodded and returned to her desk, glancing suspiciously at the armory door.

* * *

.

The phone rang and Triss picked it up.

"Catseye investigations."

"This is Director Finch. Is Miss Siyann there?"

Triss sat bolt upright in her chair, eyes widening in shock.

"She isn't with you? She left almost an hour ago!"

A brief silence ensued before Finch spoke. "She is not here and does not answer her mobile. Could something have happened to her?"

"I… I don't know. If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll try to find her."

"Please do. I won't keep you any longer."

The phone went dead and Triss stared at it for several seconds before dialling a second number. The phone rang and when it was answered, Triss spoke.

"Mr Chin, we have a problem. Director Finch just called, Cat never reached him!"

_"Are you… never mind. Ti will be there as soon as possible. Armor up and prepare for deployment."_

The phone went dead and Triss stared at it.

"What the hell is going on?"

.

The armory door slammed open and Ti strode out, clad in armor. Seeing Triss already suited up, he motioned for her to follow him. Triss walked into the room just in time to see the floor ripple, a circular hole opening in the middle.

"What the hell?"

Ti looked at her and gave a lopsided smile.

"Follow me."

With that instruction, Ti stepped into the hole and dropped. Triss stepped to the edge and looked down, seeing the drop outlined by multiple glowing rings. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the hole.

.

Triss grabbed at the metal platform as her weight returned. Ti gave her several seconds before hauling her to her feet.

"Come on, we need to find Cat as soon as possible."

"What the hell was that?"

"Grav-chute. Come on, Leyan's waiting with Phil."

The door ahead of them hissed open and Triss followed Ti through, stopping at the sight of the massive cave complex festooned with strange technology. Her gaze passed over the shape-changing plane and a larger black winged ovoid before freezing on a large catlike being rising from behind an array of consoles. The cat-man growled and Ti grinned coldly.

"You tracked them already? Nice, let's go."

Another growl interrupted him and Ti turned to look at Triss.

"Ah, the language. What about the recovery time?"

A third growl ensued and Ti nodded before frowning.

"They got that far? Okay. Triss, come with me, let's get you learning to understand Leyan."

Triss followed Ti to what was obviously a medbay and Ti waved at a bed with a complex hood at one end. As Triss lay on it, Ti placed the hood on her head and stood back, activating the device.

"Don't panic, Triss. Once you wake up, you'll understand Leyan just fine."

Before Triss could ask what he meant, a flash of light sent her into darkness.

.

"I think she's recovering."

Triss opened her eyes and stared at an unfamiliar roof. A moment later, it was eclipsed by a familiar face.

"Mr Chin?"

Phil grinned. "You are now an Insider, Triss. Call me Phil, you've earned the right. Are you feeling alright?"

Triss gingerly sat up and looked around the odd room.

"Where are we?"

"In the grav-sled, fully stealthed. Tiger's flying on our wing."

Triss looked at the source of the voice and stared at the looming figure.

"You speak English?"

Phil grinned as Leyan shook his head.

"That medical treatment gave you the ability to understand his language, he already understands ours. Leyan, Cat's status?"

"The plane that she is on has landed on a private airfield. They have her restrained on a stretcher and disguised as a crate of something. Bio-readings from her watch indicate that she's still drugged and unconscious, but starting to wake."

Phil motioned for Triss to stand up and then handed her a weapon.

"This is your new halberd. Monomolecular blade with monofilament edge, it will cut through almost anything. The staff itself is reinforced. Use it carefully."

Triss nodded and then followed Phil to the front of the vehicle where she first looked out at the darkening sky and then down at the screen showing a blurred image as seen from orbit.

"What are they going to do to her?"

"What they probably plan is to force her to sign something giving all her money to Sharper and then for her to have an 'accident' or simply disappear. What they'll _get_ is us, hard, fast and merciless."

Triss glanced over at Leyan and nodded slowly.

"Do we know where they're heading?"

"Let's follow them and find out, they're almost below us now."

Triss leaned forwards and stared down through the panoramic screen, soon spotting the covered pickup travelling down the road and the two cars escorting it.

"Why not stop them now?"

"The speed they're travelling, an EMP blast may cause them to crash. I won't put Kitten's life in jeopardy that way, we wait until they arrive and then we attack."

Triss nodded slowly and then grinned.

"How tough is the thing that Ti is flying and how fast can _you_ move?"

Phil gave her a long look.

"What did you have in mind?"

.

The convoy pulled up outside the dark house and Sharper stepped out of the lead car, smiling cruelly. The other vehicles also disgorged their occupants and Sharper walked to the rear of the pickup. Opening the door, he grinned at the sight of his step-daughter straining against the handcuffs which held her immobile.

"Been a long time, 'rine. Nothing to say to your dear dad?"

Cat glared at him over her gag and Sharper laughed as he stepped back to let two of the others pull the stretcher out of the pickup and put it on the ground.

"Well, you'll soon have plenty to tell me, like how you escaped from me and reached L.A. after I topped your bitch of a mother, what you did with all my money and who that large fellow was who attacked me and stole my stuff. After that, I'm sure my friends will want to 'talk' to you as well."

"Talking isn't what we want." said one of the men and the others grinned. Sharper half-turned and motioned dramatically at Cat.

"Well, I promised you shares of what this gets us, you can see how sweet the first installment is. Let's get her inside, and then we'll get down to basics, yes?"

The rising laughter was suddenly cut off by the dramatic collapse of the house. The roof folded in and the windows blew out before the walls themselves started to topple. A moment later, a six-meter tall humanoid shape rose from the dust cloud and strode forwards, crushing beams and bricks under its metal legs.

"Reginald Sharper, prepare to meet justice."

The amplified voice froze the gang for several seconds and then Sharper pulled out his gun and aimed it at the stretcher while staring at the dark shape. The metal humanoid froze and Sharper grinned.

"You're one of 'rine's friends, aren't you? Well, that armor will make a nice down-payment. Get out of it, or I'll pull the trigger."

"And what will that accomplish?"

Sharper blinked as he recognized Cat's voice and his gaze slowly traveled from the giant figure to the empty stretcher with the cuffs sliced through like they were so much paper. The others also followed his gaze and then, almost as one, they turned to see Cat standing between two armed and armoured figures, one of whom was holding a type of spear while the other carried a sword and shield.

"How the… How'd you do that, you little bitch!"

Sharper swung his pistol round and fired just as Cat ducked behind the two armoured figures. The bullet bounced off the one with the spear and then a sudden flash of light from behind plunged his world into darkness.

.

Cat walked over to where the bound form of Sharper was resting against the side of the pickup and then half-turned to face Phil.

"Heck of a good plan, grabbing me while Ti kept their eyes on him, but did we have to bring Triss in on this?"

Triss removed her helmet and glared at Cat.

"Do you think that I'm untrustworthy or something? I'm the one who came up with the plan to rescue you, sending in Ti to get their attention while Phil cut you free. I'm the one who stopped Leyan from rampaging in and who recorded the whole damned scene for when you get this bastard prosecuted. I think that I deserve to be in on this."

Cat stared at her and then sagged slightly.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't snap at you like that."

Triss put her arm around Cat's shoulders and hugged her lightly.

"You're just venting all that fear and anger. When you see him dragged to court, you'll feel better."

Cat looked up at Triss and then transferred her gaze to where several sets of flashing blue lights were cresting a nearby hill.

"Where's Leyan and the sled?"

"Headed back. Triss and I are going to claim Ti carried us, Ti will back us up. That will explain how we got here so fast." replied Phil

Glancing at the approaching lights, Triss grinned.

"Leyan's just contacted me, he dropped an E-mail to Finch who's on his way over in a gulfstream jet. Once we have this sorted, howsabout you blag us all a ride back with him? I've never been in one of those luxury planes before."

Cat shot her a startled look before bursting into laughter.

* * *

.

The courtroom was packed and a sudden silence descended as a quartet of armoured figures strode in, their helmets tucked under their left arms. The four moved to the prosecution desk and sat down, flanking the government lawyer. On the other side of the courtroom, Sharper glared at them before his lawyer leaned forwards and blocked his view. A moment later, a voice sounded.

"All rise."

As everyone rose to their feet, the judge walked in. Striding across to her desk, she sat down.

"Be seated."

Looking over her half-glasses at the court in front of her, the judge picked up her gavel and tapped it.

"Prosecution council, you may advance your case."

The lawyer stood up and picked up a folder in front of him. Walking round the bench, he held the folder out and then placed it on the desk of the court clerk.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this man is here today accused not only of kidnap and attempted extortion, but also of murder, a murder which he believed he had escaped punishment for over three years ago. It is my intent to prove, with information provided by several people in court here today including Director Finch of the FBI and General White of the Armed Forces, both of whom have arrived _specifically_ to testify here, that three and a half years ago, Reginald Sharper, then the sheriff of Newtown, did kill his wife and try to kill his step-daughter. It is further my intention to prove, using video-evidence recorded by Ms Patricia Umana, that Reginald Sharper did lead the kidnapping of his step-daughter three weeks ago with the intent of extorting her into signing all her money over to him and then killing her afterwards.  
"I call upon you, honorable members of the jury, to listen to all the facts that my opposite number and I shall present and draw your own conclusions based _only_ on those facts. Thank you."

The lawyer returned to his seat and sat down. As the defense lawyer rose, Cat leaned over.

"Interesting speech."

The lawyer grinned at her.

"With the evidence we have, I could have done anything short of showing up blind drunk and we still would win."

* * *

.

The champagne cork popped out of the bottle to ricochet off the far wall to a chorus of cheers. Cat held out her glass to be filled, then nodded permission for Ti to have a small glass as well. As she settled back down in her chair, she turned her gaze to General White.

"Thank you for that autopsy report, General. Without it, he just might have been sentenced to twenty-five instead of life plus ten."

"The least I could do for such a lovely lady." replied the general. "May I also take advantage of this meeting to once again thank you for providing those two rings? We tested one and reverse-engineered the other, we should have a new generation of weapons and devices based on its tech soon."

The other non-Catseye person in the room raised his glass and Cat half-turned to look at him.

"May I also add my thanks? That long-range bio-scan package your friend had delivered to my headquarters is incredible. My tech people are already working on ways to duplicate it for use in our satellites."

Cat grinned.

"Well, my friend appreciates having people willing to look out for me."

"But when can I meet him to personally thank him?"

Cat's grin vanished.

"Probably never. He doesn't like being around strangers much."

Finch shrugged slightly.

"Well, pass my thanks to him and ask him if he has any other technology that I could buy from him."

"I'll do that."

* * *

.

**Chapter Seven**

Cat looked out through the holographically-shielded door at the tent less than twenty meters away, noting the overly-familiar figure of Director Finch sat on a chair beside it, a book in his hand. Although he seemed to be reading, his eyes kept twitching towards the concealed opening. Cat stepped back and the doorway silently swung back into place.

"He knows. God knows how, but he knows."

Leyan straightened up from where he had been crouching beside her and frowned.

"I can see only one way that he could know, he used one of the bio-sensors. I did not think he would move that fast, the shielding is only partially installed. However, if he has used one of the scanners, the readings he got from me would have confused him."

Cat nodded slowly and then grinned.

"Leyan, you may have to hide in that shielded alcove of yours, I think it's time that I invited him in for a cup of tea."

"Are you sure?"

"Hell, may as well let him know that _something's_ here, just to stop him calling in the heavy mob with digging equipment."

.

The mobile phone buzzed in his pocket and Finch raised it to his ear, not taking his attention away from the readout screen in the fake book he was holding.

"Finch."

"Finch, it's Cat. Have you field-tested the device yet?"

"Yes, and it's very impressive."

A brief silence ensued and then Cat spoke again.

"You're using it now, aren't you. Well, may as well shut off the decoy we were testing and then say hello in person."

As she spoke, the strange yet familiar readings on the screen dropped to zero, leaving only those of several humans. An instant later, a perfectly-camouflaged door opened in the cliff ahead of him and Cat stood silhouetted against the back-light.

"You may as well come in."

Finch slowly lowered the phone as he tried to get his mind working again. As Cat waved for him to approach, he stood up and, ignoring the startled comments of his bodyguards, walked forwards to the doorway.

"An excellent disguise, Ms Siyann. My men looked at the cliff, but decided it was solid. May I enter?"

"You may, but not your men. Anything you see is private, you tell no-one, possibly not even the President. He doesn't have the need to know yet."

Finch nodded, waved his men back and then stepped through the door, barely noticing it slide closed behind him. Across the artificial cavern, Ti looked up from a large semi-holographic control station and raised a hand in greeting before looking back at whatever engrossed him.

"What is this place?"

"Ti took to calling it the Catcave and the name kind of stuck."

Finch looked round again, his gaze darting between the different areas.

"Interesting place. Ms Siyann, may we talk privately?"

"I have no secrets from my son, Director. We can talk here."

Finch nodded slowly and took a deep breath.

"I wish to ask if you know about the _jhaakraaneeya_."

For an instant, Cat could only stare at him in shock. Ti also stared at him, then descended from the control dais and walked towards them.

"The name is known to us, Director. However, there is a great deal you have yet to say to convince us to trust you."

Finch nodded slowly.

"Six months ago, a ship crashed near the Mexican border. My people got there first and found several crew had survived, as well as one prisoner. The crew were hostile, but we caught them all. Many of my best operatives died in that mission. The prisoner refused to even try and communicate until she saw you in your armor on a T.V. screen. Since then, we have been trying to communicate and what we have learned so far scares the hell out of me."

Cat looked at him carefully.

"The prisoner was one of the _jhaakraaneeya_ , wasn't she. Tall, strong, retractile claws, semi-prehensile tail?"

Finch returned her gaze.

"You have recently made contact with them as well, then?"

"Not exactly." interjected Ti, glancing at Cat. When she nodded, he continued. "Mum's life was saved by one, she's been helping him hide out while slowly feeding his technology into America. General White can probably give you more details about some of the things we've transferred across. Leyan's trying to build a new ship so that he can return to his people, I've asked to go with him when he does so."

"Who is this Leyan?" asked Finch, unaware of the silent form approaching him from the previously-closed door. A second later, a slight scuffing noise caused him to turn and his jaw dropped.

"Director Finch, this is Leyan. I think that he has a few fairly urgent questions to ask you."

.

Leyan growled and Finch looked at Ti for a translation.

"Do you have any sigils or identification from the _jhaakraaneeya_ in your custody?"

Finch pulled out a small piece of paper and, unfolding it, placed it on the table. Leyan lent forwards to stare at it before growling another question.

"Is the sigil primarily gold, silver or black?"

"Silver. Black here, here and here"

Leyan leant back and looked at Finch, growling another question.

"Does your guest have varicolored stripes?"

"Yes. Why?"

Leyan nodded and then rose. Walking over to the control dais, he tapped several buttons and a trio of images formed in front of him. Finch walked over and pointed at the middle one.

"That's her."

Leyan nodded slowly and turned to Cat, raising one brow before giving an interrogative growl. Cat stared back at him.

"Here? I don't think that the intelligence people would like that."

Leyan growled again, more insistently and Cat stared at him.

"Your daughter?! You mean… I see. Finch?"

Finch stared at her and then transferred his gaze to Leyan.

"I can arrange to have her smuggled out of the base, but you need to give me a reason to do so."

Leyan waved at Cat and she half-sighed.

"Come on, Finch. Time for you to learn Leyan's language."

* * *

.

The base beneath seemed almost deserted except for a squad of agents guarding a large, growling container on the roof. The sudden rippling into visibility of the grav-sled caused some consternation, quickly stilled as Finch stepped out.

"Gentlemen, you have done your duty. This is top-secret, do not speak of this to anyone, dismissed. Agent Felix Johnson, remain here, I have a new mission for you."

The other agents dispersed and vanished through various doors. As the last one vanished, Leyan climbed out of the Grav-sled, only to freeze as Johnson reflexively pulled his gun out and pointed it at him.

"Put that gun away!"

Finch's barked command caused Johnson to hesitate and then he slowly returned the weapon to its holster, watching the armoured form of Leyan carefully. As he did so, Leyan stepped over to the container and began a series of growls. An second or so later, responses issued from the dark container. Leyan stepped back and pulled out a dagger.

"That won't be needed, the keys are there on the side."

Leyan nodded and used the keys to unlock the door. As it swung open, a smaller shape burst out and cannoned into Leyan. Once again Johnson started to draw, but then sheepishly returned the gun to its holster as both furry figures began purring. A moment later, four other armoured figures stepped out of the sled and approached the two non-humans. As Johnson watched them exchange quiet words, he became aware of Finch's presence by his shoulder.

"Sir?"

"Family reunion, Johnson. Pay attention, things are going to get interesting."

Johnson half-turned to see Finch smiling.

"I may have to get General White in on this, but that shouldn't be too hard. Johnson, you have just been promoted, congratulations. Your new task is to act as my representative in whatever organisation grows out of this once I get the President briefed. When they leave, we're going with them. Once we get where we're going, you'll learn Leyan's language and get ready for all you know to be turned upside-down."

* * *

.

Johnson opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling before a familiar face appeared.

"Feeling better?"

Johnson slowly sat up and swung his legs off the bed. Standing up, he took a couple of steps and tentatively shook his head.

"I feel okay, sir. What happened?"

"You learnt the language of the _jhaakraaneeya_. Now that you're mobile, come with me."

Johnson followed his boss out of the small medbay into the large, high-tech cave. Glancing round, he saw the two feline-like beings sat opposite each other at a table, the smaller one eating food which resembled raw meat. The larger one looked over and motioned.

"Good evening, Agent Johnson, Director Finch. Meet my daughter Kara. My other daughter will be back soon, she's in the middle of an investigation along with Phil and my grandson. Triss is dealing with a family thing, so she won't be back until tomorrow"

"They need to retain their covers somehow." responded Finch. Felix looked at him in surprise and then back at the two _jhaakraaneeyas_ at the table. As they sat at the table, Felix half-turned to ask the question that had suddenly become important.

" _Other_ daughter? I was under the impression that there were only two of you on this planet."

"I officially adopted Cat yesterday. Finch was kind enough to draw up the documents and file them as Top Secret."

"First time an adoption has been a matter of planetary security." joked Finch. "By the way, how's the link to our research base?"

"The last grav-rings will be in place within a standard week of the tunnel being finished, thanks to your technicians. We should have full power and be ready to test two days after that. It will be good to have access to a near-working starship again, even one based on _kreeakhagga_ so-called technology."

Finch nodded, ignoring Johnson's wide-eyed stare.

"Remember our bargain, we get you back to your kind, you recruit aid for us."

"My father knows what he is doing." Kara interjected. "Surely you do not question his honour?"

"Not at all." smiled Finch. "I just know how eager I would be to get home after several years away from Earth."

"But I am home." said Leyan. "My family is here, and wherever family is, is home. However, it will be good to see _jhaakraanach_ again."

Finch nodded and rose, indicating to Johnson that he should remain seated.

"My copter is waiting for me outside. Johnson, learn what you can, you'll be going with them as my representative when we finally get that ship rebuilt."

Kara looked up from her emptied plate. "Rebuilt? You totally stripped it and had to grab a design from one of your future-fiction tales to use as a new pattern. It will be interesting to see what a human ship incorporating both _jhaakraaneeya_ and _kreeakhagga_ technology looks like."

"Well, we have so many stories to choose from, it should be interesting." Finch laughed as he opened the door. Walker watched him leave and then turned back, feeling somewhat self-conscious. Leyan looked at him and then rose.

"Agent Johnson, come with me. I have some quarters prepared for you, I think that you will need some time to adjust."

* * *

.

The cliff-door opened and Cat walked through, followed closely by Director Finch, General White, President Walker and his daughter Alice. As the door closed, Felix caught a glimpse of two agents taking positions to either side of the door, partially silhouetted against the noonday sky. Walker looked around, a slight smile on his lips.

"You weren't kidding, Finch. This is like no place I've ever been to."

Cat halted in the middle of the cavern and motioned the others to approach.

"May I introduce my colleagues. This is my son, Tion, also called Tiger, Philip Antar, also called Panther, and Patricia Umana, also called Puma."

Walker bowed slightly, as did General White. Cat hid a grin as two familiar forms came out through a semi-concealed door.

"May I also introduce the reason for the request for secrecy and the open Presidential pardon. Behind you is my adoptive father and sister, Leyan and Kara."

As she spoke, all her guests turned and all except Finch reacted. Walker froze while Alice gasped and ducked behind her father, peering round him. General White merely raised one eyebrow before taking a step forwards and bowing.

"Mr Leyan, it is a true pleasure to meet you at last. Thank you for the aid you have given and I hope to build on our arrangement… what?"

Finch managed to choke down his chuckle and glanced at Cat. When she nodded, he spoke.

"Leyan and Kara are currently aiding my people develop new technology, reverse-engineering his. Once we get all the bugs sorted, we'll be in a position to give you an entirely new generation of weapons."

Leyan growled and Finch nodded.

"I know. That is why President Walker is here."

Walker glanced at Finch in confusion.

"You understand him?"

"I do. I am here to act as an independent translator for you, Cat will speak for Leyan and Kara. We have a project which we wish to undertake. We call it the Guardian Shield and its purpose is to protect the entire planet…."

.

"… and so, if you approve this, we can get the basic infrastructure in place on the far side of the moon within a month. We estimate that the first shipyard will be on-line a month after that and the first human starship completed within a year, sooner if we get both Mr Lucas's and Mr Stratsinzki's designs from them and permission to use them."

Walker nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the holographic presentation.

"An excellent brief, Ms Siyann. I have only a few questions to ask."

Cat looked at him.

"First, language. You can understand Leyan, would those assigned to this project also be taught his tongue?"

"Yes, the process takes only a few hours. To learn to speak it is far harder, our vocal cords are slightly different."

Walker nodded and then continued. "Second, the base will be under the control of NASA?"

"That was our assumption, although we believe that it might be best to have a new subdivision of NASA formed for this, something along the lines of a North American Space Navy with staff transferred from your regular armed forces as and when required. Once we get the first capital ships finished, America will hold the orbitals and ocean vessels will become less necessary."

Walker nodded. "Finally, can I have one of these holoprojectors for my office?"

Grins blossomed around the table and Cat nodded.

"I would be honored to oversee its installation personally."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Eight**

Cat looked at the group of twenty large, muscular men who were standing in the middle of the sparring hall, then glanced across at her son, who smiled wryly. Suppressing a sigh, she turned back to General White, whose straight face was marred only by the twinkle in his eyes.

"So, you want me to evaluate their fighting skills?"

General White nodded. "They are among the most elite hand-hand fighters in all the branches of the US Armed Forces. I would like to know how they match up."

Cat shrugged, then suppressed a smile of her own as a thought occurred to her. She glanced back at Tion, who grinned as the same thought obviously occurred to him.

"I agree, but I shall only judge. My son will provide the actual test."

White glanced at Tion, perhaps noting the fact that he had almost attained full growth, then nodded slowly, unable to hide the hint of a wicked smile.

"Very well, Ms Siyann. If you will come with me while your son prepares?"

Cat nodded to Tion, then followed White to a raised platform where several chairs were tucked in under a wide table. White couteously pulled out a chair for her, then took another as Tion, clad only in trousers and T-shirt, strode confidently onto the mat, pausing just by the central area.

"Gentlemen, the task is simple and is a pass or fail. Pin Tion Siyann or force him off the blue mats, and you win. Should you be pinned or forced off, you lose. Extra points will be added or subtracted for time taken or endured. We go alphabetically. Abrahams, you're up."

The largest of the military men, who was easily a full head taller than Tion, stepped forwards and grinned. Both Tion and Abrahams walked forwards, stopping just a few paces from each other and Cat leaned back, hiding a wide grin.

"Go!"

At White's barked command, Abrahams stepped forwards, his arms sweeping out to enfold Tion in a bear hug, but Tion had launched himself up in a prodigious leap that carried him over Abraham's head as he used one hand on Abraham's shoulder to steady himself mid-flight. Landing lightly, Tion half-turned and snagged the arm of his adversary, using his spin to hurl the giant through the air and off the edge of the blue crash mat.

"Four point three seconds. Tion wins."

Abrahams sat up, a poleaxed expression on his face, and then he levered himself to his feet and staggered back to the others, who were standing absolutely silent, their eyes wide.

"Carson. Step forward, you're next."

.

The sound of a body hitting the crash mat echoed round the hall and the last of the soldiers groggily pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Nine point four seconds. Tion wins again."

Cat allowed her gaze to travel along the line of no-longer arrogant soldiers, many of whom still wore stunned expressions. As Sergeant Walls pulled himself to his feet, one of the men stepped forwards and saluted. General White raised an eyebrow.

"Permission to ask whatever you want, Johnson."

Johnson dropped his salute and stood to attention.

"Sir, I was under the impression that we were among the best fighters in the US military, and yet Tion Siyann has mopped the floor with us, barely breaking a sweat. What branch of the service is he in?"

"Tion Siyann is a civilian contractor with Catseye Investigations who agreed to help me to evaluate you for inclusion into a special project. Although none of you lasted more than twenty seconds against him, his mother is of the opinion that you have the potential to eventually approach his level of combat skill."

All the soldiers stared in near-shock at Cat, then Johnson raised his hand.

"Sir?"

General White smiled.

"Gentlemen, this was your final test. All of you who agree will be transferred to the USIS where you will undergo special training, overseen by an accredited expert of the fighting style that Tion used. In addition, you will be trained for hostile-environment combat and the use of advanced weapons technology. However, this is offer is for volunteers only and your immediate families, for those of you that have them, will be relocated with you, since contact with the base is seriously restricted. Be aware that your current ranks will be in abeyance should you transfer, although your pay and medical treatments will be considerably improved."

Johnson glanced at the others, then saluted again.

"Sir, I think that all of us here will request the transfer."

General White rose, as did Cat.

"Excellent. My aide has the transfer papers and the non-disclosure agreements, but they will not be accepted until tomorrow at the earliest. Be aware that once you make the transfer, there is no going back, so be certain.

* * *

.

Cat looked up at the dome which enclosed the base and the stars beyond it, then returned her gaze to the lush parks and the other buildings, each with their own dome. Beside her, Leyan loomed like a furry cliff.

"It amazes me how many layers of safety you humans insisted on here. A dome with not only four separate layered repeller screens but also a double layer of transbattle alloy, each of which could shrug off a combat-range nuke. Extra domes of the same over and for the buildings, each with their own life-support system. Add the energy cannons at the dome apex and the periphery and I would _hate_ to be the one tasked with taking this base, even with your still-primitive tech."

Cat shrugged and leaned against her adoptive father.

"Well, they're still adapting to the tech you brought. A bit of over-engineering is only to be expected. How's Kara?"

Leyan glanced down at her.

"She's fine, enjoying herself examining the biology of those soldiers you and General White recruited, optimising the new earth-built implants for them and overseeing the implantation surgery. They took to the extra abilities provided by the implants like starvelings to a feast while the high-g training seems to be a challenge rather than a burden to them."

Cat nodded, then turned to look up at him.

"What is it about the implants that you aren't telling me?"

Leyan sighed. "I thought my species was good with implants, but yours can use them to do things absolutely impossible for mine. A single human can truly merge with a computer, doing tasks in instants that would take five of my kind several minutes to achieve. Should you Humans go expansionist, I believe it would cost the rest of the galaxy a disproportionate amount to stop you."

Cat nodded slowly.

"I see. You might be right to worry, but I doubt that the humans and the _jhaakraaneeya_ will ever go to war. We owe you too much."

Both remained silent for a while, then Leyan coughed.

"By the way, Kara has asked me if you and Phil are willing to trust her enough to give you proper implants, rather than the basic comm- and boost-systems that I gave you. Tion has already undergone the procedure and is adjusting well to the neuro-link systems. He says that once he's up and about, he's going to rebuild the exoplane for direct mental control, rather than its current exo-suit setup."

"If Tiger is willing to get new abilities, can I do any less? When can my sister fit me in?"

.

Cat opened her eyes and met Kara's concerned gaze.

"All done?"

Kara relaxed and flicked her ears in confirmation.

"I don't feel any different."

Kara shook her head as Cat sat up, holding the sheet against herself.

"You wouldn't. Tion's experience taught me that having the implants activated all at once can be extremely disconcerting. Therefore, the bio-enhancement implants will slowly ramp up to full over the next twenty days, giving you time to adjust. Only _after_ that will I activate the radio-telepathy and then neuro-link enhancements."

Cat stood up, wrapping the sheet around her, and looked around.

"Well, I'm up. Where are my clothes?"

Kara handed her a pile of fabric, then stood back as Cat started to dress.

"Sister, I'll be accompanying the Daedalous on its first voyage but father is remaining behind, his choice. Tiger has also asked to come with me to _jhaakraanach_ , unless you refuse permission."

Cat managed to settle her jumper into place and looked up to meet her adopted-sister's gaze.

"Why should I stop him? If you're going, at least I know that someone I trust is there to keep an eye on him and keep him out of mischief."

Kara froze, then slowly turned to fix Cat with an inquisitive look.

"You expect _me_ to be able to keep _Tiger_ out of mischief? Honor-sister, I am pleased that you have such faith in me, but maybe I should recheck your implants. You seem to be suffering from a terminal case of over-optimism."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be the first portion of an epic "Humanity Reaches The Stars" story.  
> I made it this far, then finally realized that epic also equals very, very difficult to maintain.  
> Oh, and my muse teleported away, giggling madly (sigh).


	6. Devil's Island

**Prologue**

The two beings stood on the top of the central mountain, looking over the large island. To a normal person, the view would have been just another landscape, albeit a spectacular one. To the two standing with their wings folded, the view was far, far more.

"I didn't truly believe that you could achieve this." said the taller of the two. "You have evaded the attention of your former overlord and managed to construct this."

The other one looked round, his eyes seeing the complex yet stable network of magery and spell-casting which surrounded the island.

"Without your help and expertise, my friend, I could not have done even a fraction of this." he said. "You taught me the magics of the Zeraphym, the ways of harnessing the bright path."

"As you taught me of the ways of the Dyaivial, that I and my kin could counter them." said his companion. "Will you take the final step you have planned?"

"You had the vision, as did I." came the reply. "You know that magic will fade from this land. When the truly innocent mage lets himself be sacrificed next moon, it will cause the magepaths to flux for over a thousand years. The Zeraphym may survive by harnessing themselves to the followers of the innocent one's path, my former kin will not. They are too independent and stubborn."

"Too true." sighed the taller being and the other turned to face him.

"Will you join me in the path I choose? Will you pass the millennia in the chamber of no-time, until the magepaths have stabilized once more and the reservoirs we have carved into this isle have replenished? Will you emerge with me to see what the humans have done without magic, how they have grown with none to lead them save belief and rationality?"

"No." replied the first one. "Part of me wants to, my friend, but my place is with my kin. If they survive, I shall too. Should they die in the flux we have foreseen, I will fly with them to beyond the darkened skies."

Silence descended on both for a while, then the second one spoke.

"Then I shall say farewell, Gabrera Ainjar of the Zeraphym. I shall remember our friendship as long as I remain on this plane."

"And I shall remember it also, Dyaimaion Salitan, once of the Dyaivial." came the reply. "Our paths may not meet again, but I hope they do."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter One**

The wreckage of the yacht rested on the beach, the unconscious form of a man slumped over the wheel, his arms and legs at angles that nature never intended. The hatch cover grated open and the bloodied form of a woman crawled out, a bloodstained bandage wound round her head. Moving slowly, she crept across to the man and reached out for him, then collapsed. Her vision blurred for a moment, then refocused on a pair of clawed feet.

"He... help us... please..."

A finger touched her brow and she fell into darkness.

.

"Lucy!"

The man sat up suddenly and glanced round wildly, then froze as a shape detached from the wall of the room. It stepped forwards into the light and he stared in shock at the thing that he had believed only existed in legend.

"What... who..."

"She is healing." said the figure. "She will wake in a few of your hours. It was she who asked for my aid, but there is a price."

"Who are you?"

The figure smiled, showing a glimpse of its pointed teeth. "My name, you would call me Demon. It is close enough that it will do. And yes, I am what your people call a Devil. As far as I can determine, I am the last of my kind. You are Marc Garon from the land known as America."

"How..?"

Demon shrugged. "I read your mind, and that of your fiance, as I brought you both back from the path to the realms beyond. However, I had to infuse you both with a portion of my power in order to keep you alive and... it has affected you. Physically"

Marc stared at him and Demon moved closer, fixing him with his golden-eyed slit-pupiled gaze.

"Your lifespan has been increased, you have a full two centuries ahead of you should you leave this isle, closer to five if you stay. Your senses are sharper and you will find yourself stronger and faster. However, you are no longer fully human. The closest fit I came across in your memories would be... elf."

Marc blinked, then slowly reached up and touched his ear. His finger slid up from the lobe and he tensed as it reached the now-pointed tip. Demon held up a small mirror and Marc looked into it. His reflection stared back, with slit-pupiled eyes.

"Why?"

"Why did I heal you? Because I was asked. Why did I make the changes to you that I did? Because I had to, in order to keep you alive long enough for you to heal." Demon paused and placed the mirror on a side table. "Why am I talking to you now? Because, despite or maybe _because_ _of_ what I have seen in your mind, I need your help. I have given you new life, Marc. I have a plan to bring hope, and I need help to do it, and since my old friend did not survive..."

Marc stared at him. "What plan? What do you intend to do? And why do you wish to bring hope when you are... forgive me, but when you are a... a devil?"

"Because, although I am, as you say, a Devil, I am one who has sworn himself to the light. It is time for the light to shine once more. Does the shape of the lamp matter as long as the light it projects is true?"

.

"Marc!"

Lucy sat up suddenly and glanced round wildly, then froze as a shape detached from the wall of the room. It stepped forwards into the light and she stared in shock at the familiar figure smiling at her.

"You're alive!"

"Thanks to you." said Marc, enfolding Lucy in a hug.

"Where are we?"

"Long story." said Marc, releasing her. "Lucy, look at me."

Lucy stared at him uncomprehendingly, then she gasped as she saw his eyes.

"Yours are the same." he said. "And your ears too. Part of how we were healed. On the plus side, we now have several centuries ahead of us."

Lucy reached up and stroked Marc's ear, then touched her own, feeling the same shape. Marc smiled and cupped her cheek in his hand.

"It was your plea which persuaded the owner of this land to use magic to heal us." he said. "On this island, electrical devices do not work, only magic. Like this."

Lucy gasped as Marc held up his free hand and a small glow of light appeared above it.

"He taught me how to do this, in order to convince me this place is real. He told me of his past, of why he did what he did and what he plans. He wants to meet you, once you are dressed."

Lucy blinked and stared at him, her gaze dropping to the embroidered tunic he wore and the anachronistic yet somehow appropriate sword attached to his belt.

"He left clothes for you here." said Marc, motioning to a neat pile of fabric on the chair beside the bed. "Come on, we don't want to keep him waiting."

.

Lucy stepped through the door behind Marc and froze as the three-meter red-skinned figure rose from the throne at end of the table. Her gaze flickered from his horns and pointed ears to the wings which protruded from his back, then down to the twitching tail and clawed feet. Marc grinned.

"Lucy, this is our rescuer and healer, Lord Demon of Devil's Island. Demon, as you already know, this is my fiancee, Lucy McArther."

Demon bowed gracefully despite his height and motioned to the other two chairs at the table.

"Greetings, Lucy. My home is yours, I grant you my protection and promise of safety here."

"I... I..."

"You could try _thank you_." whispered Marc and Angie blushed.

"Please, be seated. I apologize for the basic food, but my skills lie in other areas than cooking."

"Your skills?" asked Lucy as Marc guided her to the chair further away from Demon. "Would they include healing?"

"They would, to a certain degree." said Demon. "As taught to me by my now-deceased friend Gabrera of the Zeraphym. We taught each other much. I not only learned magic from him, I learned from him about honor, duty and morality. Together, we explored the fusing of our magics, probing into the why and how of our powers. And together, we made this island into a place of refuge from the cataclysm which claimed both our races. Yet at the end, he chose not to remain here with me, but to stand with his own kin, remaining in their homeland in the mountains."

"Cataclysm?"

"Yes." said Demon sadly. "A bit over two of your millennia ago, a true innocent with enormous magical powers died, sacrificing himself to save a guilty one. His death coincided with a temporary growing instability of the magepaths, unleashing a wave of magery which destroyed many, if not all, of the Changed. The Zeraphym, the Dyaivial, the hundred races of the Wyer, the Dzampharie, the Phrai and many others, all gone as if they had never been, leaving only myth and legend."

"Demon intends to resurrect them." said Marc. "He can heal humans, but only at a high cost to himself. If he instead transforms them into one of the Changed, he can to all intents and purposes heal them using magery from outside himself. That's what he did to us, he turned us into those once called the Phrai, elves. It allowed him to heal us without exhausting himself."

Lucy stared at him and Demon nodded.

"At present, although the island has returned from no-time, I still maintain a spell upon it. Any who look upon this place will not see it, those who get too close will find a reason to turn away. I need your help, both of you. Please, help me change this island, making it into a place where people would want to live."

"Change?"

Demon nodded as he rose. "I can use the full power of magery to create buildings, to raise stone and shape it, even change it. But I do not know what shape such things should be. I do not know how humans wish to live. For that, I need help. I need you. Please, talk it over between yourselves."

Demon walked to the side door and paused.

"If you wish, I can change you back to how you were before. It will take weeks, maybe even months to do so, since your injuries would reappear and need to be healed, but I can do it, allowing you to walk among others without standing out. Or you can keep the gifts I have given you, of long life and health, of enhanced senses and magery. That choice is yours to make, as are your roles here, should you wish to stay. The choices are not dependent on each other, on that you have my word."

* * *

.

"Have you decided yet whether to trust him or not?"

Lucy rested her hands on the parapet of the tower balcony, watching as the sun, visible through a rippling haze, sank below the horizon.

"He saved us, you know. Gave us new lives, longer ones."

"He's a demon. A devil."

Marc nodded, wrapping his arm around her reassuringly.

"He is. Or was. But now... I believe in him, I think he is on the side of good."

"He's so big. Even you don't reach his shoulder."

"Yeah," agreed Marc with a wry smile. "He's tall. Over three meters, and well-proportioned. And it isn't an illusion. He showed me some of his illusions, he could have appeared to us as an angel, if he'd wanted to. He didn't."

"No. He didn't." said Lucy slowly.

* * *

.

Demon strode along the main boulevard of the new city towards the harbor, flanked by Marc and Lucy.

"Good thing I used to be a civic engineer." grinned Marc. "I never thought it would come in this handy, but it has."

"You had some good ideas too, Lucy." said Demon. "Your thought of having the magelights glow only when placed in shallow dishes of water, an excellent idea. Simple to implement, and no risk of harm to children. Also makes them easy to store."

Marc nodded, then his gaze fastened to something in the harbor.

"Isn't that..?"

"Your yacht." said Demon with a nod. "I repaired it with magery. Forgot to tell you, sorry. So much other stuff to do."

"It has been a busy couple of months for you." laughed Lucy. "Teaching us magic, building the city and the villages, shaping the harbor and the surrounding islands for when you shrink the mageshields and announce to the world that magic has returned... I can see how a small detail like that could have slipped past."

Demon stopped by the edge of the harbor and looked out at the distant ripple which marked the illusion-shield.

"Are you two prepared?"

"We are." said Marc firmly. "As your butler, I say do it, sir."

"And as your secretary, I agree." said Lucy. "We are ready. It'll be... fun."

"Fun." snorted Demon as he raised his hands and closed his eyes. "I hope the protection-spells you suggested don't prove to be an error."

.

"What the fu..?"

The cut-off exclamation echoed round the bridge and the Admiral turned a disapproving glance at the rating. The rating didn't notice, as he was too busy gaping at his display. A moment later, he shook his head and looked up.

"Sir? I think the computer's on the blink. It claims there's a new landmass less than a hundred miles away."

"Sir!" called the communications officer. "Raptor-three reports that a large group of islands have suddenly appeared just south of his position. He is currently requesting orders."

The Admiral stared at him, then looked at a third officer.

"Satellite imagery confirms, sir." he said in a dumbstruck voice. "There's something there, and it wasn't there two minutes ago. No explanation."

The Admiral shook his head.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Contact with Raptor-three lost! Radar trace indicates he's going down over the islands, but there is no sign of whatever brought him down."

"Turn the fleet! Least-time course to this new landmass and prepare a rescue squad!" said the Admiral without hesitation. "I want a copter and rescue boats prepared for instant deployment when we reach the islands."

The Admiral stared out of the bridge viewport as the carrier started to slowly turn.

"What the hell is going on over there?"

.

Lucy watched as Demon finished lowering the plane to the ground and dismissed the remaining traces of the levitation spell. A moment later, a negligent-seeming gesture caused the cockpit to open and a helmeted head peered out.

"I'll take over now." said Lucy, stepping past Demon and looking at the pale face of the pilot. "Greetings. Are you injured?"

The helmet shook and Lucy smiled. "If you can come down, I am sure you have questions to ask. I will do my best to answer them."

The pilot thought it over for a minute, then ducked back into the cockpit. A moment later, he emerged without his helmet and swung himself over the edge of the cockpit, dropping lightly to the ground. Lucy smiled at him.

"I am Lucy, welcome to Devil's Island."

"What happened to my bird?" the pilot demanded and Lucy smiled again.

"When you crossed the shield-barrier, you entered an area where technology no longer holds sway. Electrical devices do not work here, only mechanical ones. As your plane is a thing of electrical technology, it cannot work here. Fortunately, one who knows the greater magics was able to catch your plane and set it down. May I ask your name?"

"Umm, Peter Gunther." the pilot said, "Magic?"

Lucy held out her hand and summoned a mage-light just above her palm. Peter stared at it, eyes wide, and she closed her fist, dismissing the spell.

"I am a healing-mage, one specializing in restoring health. As for my species, you would call me an elf." Peter started and his gaze suddenly fastened on her eyes. "My life-mate and I serve the lord of this island, he saved our lives and we owe him."

Peter nodded, then his gaze flicked past her. A moment later, Demon walked past her and moved to the edge of the harbor.

"There are several boats coming, and a flying thing that uses spinning blades instead of wings." he said. "The flying thing is about to hit the barrier."

Peter looked in the same direction and saw the small dot of the helicopter between two of the smaller offshore islands that ringed the main island. As he saw the copter, it suddenly pitched, then fell. Demon raised his hands and Peter's eyes widened as he saw the multicolored glow surrounding them.

"The flying thing has fallen, I have it. I'm moving it to the airport island. Lucy, please take this man through the Gate so that he can reassure them."

Lucy nodded.

"As you wish, Lord Demon. Peter, come with me please."

.

"What the heck was that?"

Lucy glanced back at the archway they had emerged from.

"That? It's called a Gate. It connects this place, Skydance Island, to Devil's Island. Gates only work in a high-magic environment, but they replace bridges very efficiently. Come on, the border is just there, you see those crystal pillars?"

Peter nodded and Lucy led him along the line of pillars.

"Those pillars mark the edge of the mage-shield which protects Devil's Island. On this side of the shield, technology does not work, only magic. On the other side, magic does not interfere with technology, but there is far less of it. The helicopter is there. Please reassure the soldiers and, if you can, persuade them to move the helicopter out of the shielded area."

Peter nodded and broke into a half-trot, waving at the crew examining the downed copter. As she watched him go, a jewel on her bracelet started to glow.

"Yes, beloved?"

"The boats have hit the barrier and their engines have stopped." said Marc. "They've started to row, I estimate at least ten minutes before they reach the shore."

"Understood." said Lucy as the men round the helicopter started to produce ropes, attaching them in front of the forward wheels. "Where's Lord Demon?"

"In the palace, checking the defense spells. He says to tell you that the suppression spell is working, all combat-grade explosive materials have been rendered inert. Gunpowder, missile warheads, he's checked the downed plane for confirmation. They have no working weapons except for their knives."

"And after they leave the Shield?"

"The change will not be reversible. It should give them some... interesting headaches."

Lucy dismissed the spell with a smile, then walked over to where the crew and passengers were heaving the helicopter across the magic-smoothed stone, between two of the pillars. As the helicopter passed through, she saw the shimmer of magic marking its passage.

"You're through." she called. "The electronics will be usable, but all data has probably been wiped."

One of the men waved acknowledgement and hopped into the copter. A moment later he appeared in the cockpit, waved and started to speak into the radio. Peter turned and walked back towards her, flanked by two other men.

"Lucy, this is Sergeant Jay. I told him what you told me. Can you show him that glowy-thingy?"

Lucy held out her hand and summoned the magelight into existence. Jay stared at it, then at her.

"That's freaky. Cool, but freaky. I'm afraid I'm going to have to require you to come with us."

"And how will you enforce that requirement?" asked Lucy. "Your guns no longer work, the spells of the Shield saw to that. Try it."

Jay stared at her, then with the air of someone trying an experiment, he pulled out a pistol, pointed it at the ground and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, but failed to fire and he returned it to his holster.

"Okay, then I _ask_ that you..."

Lucy held up a hand to stop him.

"My life-mate will soon be meeting the troopers rowing to Devil's Island. Should he be unable to reason with them, Lord Demon will probably... intervene. This is his land, after all. However, he wants peace. Please send that message for me once you have returned to your ship. When you wish to talk, bring your Admiral here and have Peter escort him, and any who he wishes to escort him, through the Gate. I will be waiting to guide your Admiral to meet with Lord Demon. That is all."

.

Two dozen Marines trotted through the Gate, carrying their inflatable rafts with them. Trotting over to where the helicopter stood, their leader saluted.

"Sir, our mission was _not_ a success and our weapons are currently non-functional. We can confirm one probably non-human male with unexplained capabilities. He directed us here to rendezvous with you."

Jay sighed.

"Pickup is on the way. We will soon be back aboard the ship. And the sooner I get away from this crazy island, the better."

.

The landing craft came to a rest on the beach and the ramp dropped. The Admiral strode forwards, looking round at the vista before him.

"This is one hell of an island." he said. "It would be perfect for an airfield, I've never seen anywhere this flat before. And the way it curves gently down into the ocean, just right if a plane overshoots."

"I believe that was the idea, sir." said Peter cautiously. "The Gate to the main island is that way."

The Admiral nodded and motioned for the men following him to form up. The Marines quickly formed into three lines, their modern uniforms contrasting oddly with the hurriedly-made spears and shields they carried. The Admiral adjusted his own dress sword and nodded.

"Lead the way, Lieutenant."

Lucy watched as the approaching party traversed the Gate and halted. Peter stepped forwards and saluted.

"Representative Lucy, this is Admiral Theodore Maximillian of the USS Nimitz battle-group, and escorts."

"Greetings, Admiral." said Lucy, carefully not commenting on the weapons. "Lord Demon awaits you at the Castle. Please come with me, I will answer any questions you may have on the way."

"Lord Demon." repeated Theodore. "Captain Gunther says he is indeed one, not a human or near-human."

"He is." said Lucy, "But he is not as his race once were. He seeks peace and has a wish to bring back the many other species which died out millennia ago. The time was not right before, it is now, especially since the magepaths of the world have stabilized."

"The what?"

"You would call them ley-lines, those you know about." Lucy said. "They permeate the world, and the dimensions. This land acts as a focal lens and reservoir for the energy of magery. The palace is at the center, where magery is strongest. All you see around you, the buildings, the fallow fields, the rivers and streams, all were created with magic, by the will of Lord Demon, awaiting the day when those seeking a new life of safety and wonder arrive."

Theodore nodded slowly, then looked up at the palace perched on the hill above the silent city.

"Other species?"

"You would regard them as myth and legend. Modern names for them are elves, werewolves, birdmen, fauns, merfolk, shapeshifters, many others. He has no wish to revive those of his own species, and he is still waiting to see if any that we call Angels are still around. He also has no wish to resurrect the vampires, they were originally created as creatures of war, and he seeks peace."

"Centaurs?"

"The notion of centaurs came as quite a surprise to him. Apparently, they were after his time and probably never truly existed. However, he has started to consider how to make them, should there be a request by someone to become one."

"Become?"

Lucy gave Theodore a measuring look.

"Lord Demon cannot _create_ new life, even through magic. He can, however, _change_ life, bestowing new gifts and abilities. That is how I came to be here, I was dying and asked for his help. When I awoke afterwards, I was no longer pure-human, but as you see me now. Neither my life-mate or I regret it in the slightest."

Theo walked beside her in silence until they reached the gateway of the palace grounds. As they passed through, he looked round.

"Interesting defenses, but rather outdated."

"Outdated?" asked Lucy with amusement. "In a realm where guns cannot fire, motors cannot work and computers are useless, how are thick, high walls outdated?"

Theodore frowned, then sighed. "You're right. I'm just too used to the modern way of doing it. A land where advanced technology is meaningless and magic rules... that's going to cause some problems around the world."

"Not compared to when the world discovers who rules this land." said Lucy. "We fully expect several theocratic nations to try and launch attacks within the next week or so. It should prove to be rather... interesting. And no, we won't need any protection. You'll soon see why."

Theodore strode through the door and snapped a salute at the man waiting for him on the other side, who responded with a bow before speaking.

"Good morning, Admiral Maximillion. I am Marc, Butler and Seneschal to Lord Demon. If you would please come with me? There are refreshments over there for your men, unless you wish for them to accompany you to the meeting. Either way, you will have safe conduct."

Theodore shook his head. "Lieutenant Gunther will accompany me, the others will remain here."

Marc bowed and motioned with one hand. A brief glow enveloped his hand, and the door he was pointing to opened silently.

"Lord Demon awaits you."

Theodore nodded and marched through the doorway, coming to a sudden stop. Gunther peered over his shoulder.

"Is... that..?"

"Yes, sir." whispered Gunther. "That being is Lord Demon. The renegade Devil."

Theodore swallowed as the tall figure stepped into the light from the windows.

.

"...so the President can see no problem at all for what you have suggested. He will be happy to personally sign the mutual defense treaty in exchange for basing rights on one of the outer islands, preferably the one we discussed the day before yesterday."

Demon nodded.

"That's good to hear, Theo. Have they tested the one-shot weapon I gave you?"

"The Magebomb? Yes, and it worked perfectly, as you said. All electronic and technical items within a mile of its discharge stopped working and all explosives were rendered inert. No damage to anything living. The Chiefs of Staff have authorized me to offer payment of five million dollars for each Magebomb you are willing to sell us."

Demon laughed. "Each batch takes me several hours to cast and stabilize, but I see no problems with providing your armed forces with weapons that other forces cannot counter, yet which are designed not to kill. I am willing to give America exclusivity on Magebombs in exchange for a law which gives the Changed the same rights and responsibilities as pure-blood humans. Think you can swing it?"

"I don't think there'll be much opposition." grinned Theo, raising his wine glass in a silent toast. "The Chiefs will do almost anything to get more of the Magebombs to mount on missiles, drones and artillery shells."

"And immigration?"

Theo snorted. "Word has leaked about you, and a huge number of goths and would-be satanists are clamoring for the chance to come over."

Demon nodded slowly. "Satanists. Hmmm, that could be tricky. Lucy, make a note, I need to create a new religion emphasizing toleration, kindness and protection. See if we can hire both an author and a philosopher to create some sort of so-called _unholy writ_ for the basis of it. And make a special note to avoid anything even _hinting_ at human sacrifice."

"Of course, sir." said Lucy with a bow. "Admiral, may I ask for the use of a communications room for this?"

"Go ahead." smiled Theo as Marc topped up his wineglass. "It'll be interesting to see what you come up with."

* * *

.

* * *

**.**

**Chapter Two**

The crowds in the busy airport slowed slightly as the medical team maneuvered the stretcher through the concourse and between the ever-glowing pillars to the Gate. The girl in the stretcher lifted her head slightly, then slumped back against the pillars, exhausted by the effort.

"How are you feeling, Mary?" asked the woman bustling by her side.

"I'm tired, mum." Mary whispered.

"We don't have to do this."

"The doctor said... only a miracle... could help now." whispered Mary. "This place... has magic..."

"Even so, I don't like it."

"I think this place is cool!" said the teenage boy on the other side of the stretcher. "Shame I had to leave everything electrical behind, but for Mary..."

"Thanks, Steve."

.

"Welcome to the Sheltering Wing Hotel." said the receptionist. "Are you the Richter party?"

"We are." said Steve, looking up and freezing. "Umm, sorry, but are those..."

The receptionist laughed, reaching up to lightly stroke one of her cat-like ears.

"Yes, the eyes and ears are real. I'm one of the feline-sapiens, a cat-girl. If you'll pardon me for a moment, please."

The party watched as she placed her hand on a small glowing crystal, causing a small sphere of light to appear. She whispered into it, listened to the reply, then dismissed it by releasing the crystal.

"Your suite is this way." she said, walking out from behind the desk and smiling at Steve's shock as her legs and tail came into view. "Miss Mary Richter, welcome to Devil's Island. If you don't mind, I'll be your guide while you stay here, it's already covered in the deal. Fang!"

A furry shape walked in through one of the side doors. "Yes, Kitten?"

"Take over at the desk, will you? Don't worry about Fang, he's got a macho name and looks a bit scary, but he's really nice. Surprisingly, we get along fine, even though he's a wolfman."

Fang chortled as he moved to behind the desk and settled on the stool.

"You summoned Him, right? How long before He comes?"

"He'll be here once He finishes dealing with the current set of problems, so maybe half an hour or so."

"I'll send Him straight to you."

"Are you really called Kitten?"

Mary leaned back in the recliner and looked at her new friend questioningly.

"Well, I was originally called Katherine, but when I moved here and applied to become one of the Changed, I thought I should change my name a bit as well."

"What's it like?"

Kitten frowned slightly. "My senses are sharper, as are my reflexes. I have claws and my night-vision is superb, my agility is greater and my flexibility has increased. In addition, I gained another century of life out of this, although if I leave the island, I'll age slightly faster than I would if I stay here. My family didn't approve, but then I've always been a disappointment to them, so it doesn't really matter. And I made some great new friends here."

"Did it hurt?"

"Nope. Felt a bit weird, though. Lord Demon can only Change two or three people a day due to his other duties, so there's a real waiting list building up. All the law-enforcement types here are Changed, gives them an advantage. Fang's brother Tracker works in pursuing criminals, he uses his sense of smell to track their scent. Amazing how many criminals surrender when a wolfman lopes up."

"Well said." came a voice from above and a shadow swept over them as Demon swooped own and landed lightly. Kitten reached across and lightly held Mary's hand as Demon approached. "I greet you, Mary Richter. I have heard of your case, may I examine you in order to see what I can do?"

Mary nodded and Demon reached out and lightly touched her forehead.

"Just _relax:_

Mary blinked and realized that she was not in the recliner, but was standing on a grey plain, surrounded by grey mists.

_:Where am I?:_

_:You have not moved. This is the place where thoughts exist, the realm of the mind:_ a somehow-familiar not-voice said. Mary looked round, then glanced down at herself and cringed.

_:My clothes...:_

A rustle of fabric sounded and a robe wrapped itself around her.

_:Sorry, I should have warned you. This is your first time here, so you have yet to learn to visualize clothing. Please do not be alarmed.:_

In front of her, a figure moved forwards out of the mist and Mary looked up.

_:Why are we here?:_

_:We are here because here, time does as_ I _command.:_ Demon replied. _:May I see your memories of your treatment so far?:_

As if the words had summoned them, the mist around them lit up with images, a babble of voices and glances round hospital wards. Demon watched them for a while, then waved his hand and the images vanished.

 _:I see,:_ he said, his voice sad. _:I will not lie to you, the cancer that consumes your life is too far-gone for me to heal you. Not even Angie could do more than prolong your life for a few more weeks, and she is the most skilled Healer on the island.:_

_:Could you Change me? Like you did Kitten?:_

_:No.:_ said Demon with a sigh. _:Your life-force is fading and undergoing the Change would kill you. But there is another option. If you wish, I will create an amulet for you, which will give you a week and a day in my land without pain, restoring your mobility and apparent health. On the eighth day, you will fall into a deep sleep and pass beyond, having had a week to build good memories for your family. Or, should you so choose, you will have six days with them and then come to_ me _at the Palace.:_

_:Why?:_

_:Because, although I cannot heal you, I can cause your body to be sustained, but the price is high. First, you will be unable to pass beyond the Shield that surrounds my land. Second, you will not age, although your family will grow older and eventually, go beyond the veil into the realms beyond. Third..._

_._

"No! You can't be thinking about this!"

Mary looked at her mother fondly.

"I am, mother. Look how I am now, thanks to this amulet. No pain, my strength and stamina back, a chance to spend my final mortal week with you."

"Sis, I know that you've thought this through," said Steve, "but binding yourself into Demon's service, you're only _twelve_."

"If I don't, I'll die anyway." Mary said soberly. "You know that the doctors have all given up hope, it's why you brought me here, to see if magic could do what medicine couldn't. I have a chance now. Please, let me be the one to decide."

"She's got a point, mum. It's her life, her choice."

"But... but..."

"Mum, I don't want to die and Lord Demon has offered me a chance to avoid dying. Yes, I'll be stuck on the island, but I'll be _here_ , not gone."

"You've grown up, little sis." said Steve. "If you can see about getting some food, I'll stay here and try to talk mum round."

Mary nodded and jogged off.

"If she doesn't do this, we will lose her."

"If she does, we have!"

"Now, that's not fair." said Steve. "If she does, we can visit her. Or simply move here. And she's made several friends here already. I'm sure that Lord Demon will look after her welfare."

"I thought..."

"That he would cure her by Changing her?" said Steve. "In a way, if I understand this, he will. And she'll have a longer life ahead of her than anyone else can give her. Can you give her what Demon offers?"

The only answer was an anguished head-shake.

* * *

.

"Are you ready?"

Mary nodded, looking up at Demon, then back at Kitten and her mother who had accompanied her to the Palace, helped her change into the cotton robe and escorted her to the chamber below the castle.

"This is the last time I will ask you." rumbled Demon. "In front of these witnesses and of your own free will, is it still your wish to undergo this procedure knowing the price that will be demanded of you? It is not yet too late for you to change your mind."

"I'm sure." said Mary firmly, glancing down at the fading glow of the pendant. Demon nodded, then motioned to one of the many large glowing crystals protruding from the floor, causing it to glow brighter.

"Then take your place."

Mary swallowed and walked over to the crystal. Accepting Demon's hand, she lay down on the angled slab. Demon placed both her hands on her pendant and stepped back.

"Mary!"

Mary smiled at her mother, then closed her eyes, gripping the pendant tightly.

"I'm ready."

The air seemed to change, becoming heavy, then Mary felt the crystal warming beneath her and becoming like liquid, drawing her in...

.

"It is done."

Demon looked at the crystal, seeing Mary in its depths, then turned and gestured. A faint glow appeared, then expanded and formed into a familiar, transparent, albeit unclothed shape.

"A-hem!"

The figure smiled and concentrated, then clothes formed around it and as the glow faded, she opened her eyes.

"Wow, this feels... weird."

"Control will come with practice." said Demon. "The magery which sustains you means that you will never be hungry or thirsty. As you become accustomed to it, I will teach you to fully manifest yourself, regaining solidity. You will learn your other powers as well, in time."

Mary nodded, then looked over at her body in the crystal.

"That's _me_ in there. I didn't realize that I was... that I looked that bad."

"Mary..."

"It's alright, mum. I feel fine. I just wish I could hug you..."

Demon reached out, making a strange rune in the air, and Mary suddenly became solid. Her mother stared at her, then grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, then Mary became intangible again.

"Mary..."

"I'll be fine, mum." smiled Mary. "I just need to learn how to be solid, and it'll be like I never had cancer. You'll see."

.

"Lucy, Marc? I'd like to introduce you to our newest maid, Mary Richter."

"Another maid?" asked Marc with a wry smile on his face. "We seem to be collecting them by the dozen. How long will this one stay?"

"I'm permanent." said Mary, peeping round Demon. Lucy glanced at her, then stared in shock.

"You... Your aura... what _are_ you?"

"I'm a ghost!" giggled Mary. "My body is sleeping in a special chamber downstairs, and once I learn how to be solid, I can help round the palace."

"Mary is currently a magic-enhanced astral projection," said Demon, looking down at her and smiling, "Although ghost does indeed come close. As she adjusts to her new status, I will teach her how to use the powers that are still awakening in her."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mary." said Marc, one eyebrow still raised. "A ghost on the team. I thought _nothing_ could surprise me any more."

"Until Mary learns how to use her powers, she will be a messenger." said Demon. "Mary, your role will increase as your powers do."

"That's fine." she replied. "I'll study really hard."

.

"Hello, Kitten!"

Kitten looked up and smiled at the slightly-transparent form floating towards her.

"Hello, Mary. Is it your day off again?"

"Yep. Being a maid is really hard work. Hey, I learned a new trick. Watch!"

Mary reached out towards the desk and frowned in concentration before she solidified. Reaching out, she picked up the paperweight on the desk, then put it back down before returning to her slightly-transparent self.

"That's cool!"

"Thanks." blushed Mary. "I'm still working on getting solid and staying that way, Lord Demon calls it manifesting, but I'm _really_ getting the knack of moving things. Do you want any help?"

"I was just sweeping..." Kitten trailed off as a sparkling aura appeared around Mary, then she looked down as the dust rose from the floor and flowed towards the doorway, vanishing into the garden. A moment later, the aura around Mary faded, leaving her looking slightly tired, but triumphant.

"How was that? I still can't move much _and_ stay visible at the same time, but doing it that way really helps get the chores done."

Kitten grinned and returned the broom to the cupboard.

"Let's sit in the garden, and you can tell me all the latest gossip from the palace. First of all, how are you getting on there?"

"I'm doing really well. The others are very nice and I even have my own room, although I don't have a bed. I don't need one, if I feel tired, I just kind of drift until I feel better. Lord Demon calls it magical re-energizing or something like that."

"Yes, all magic-users do that to some degree." said Kitten. "Most do it through meditation. Since I have very little magery, I can pretty much power the few things I do from my own natural mage-reserves."

"Demon says that when I finally learn to use my powers, I'll be equal to any other magic user on the island." said Mary with a grin. "Except for him, of course. He's on a _whole_ different level."

"He did create this island." admitted Kitten with a smile. "How's your family coping?"

"Mum doesn't visit any more." sighed Mary. "Steve does, but I think it bothers him a bit that he's aging, and I'm not. He's getting married soon, I haven't met his girlfriend yet. He says he'll bring her over, but I don't know how she'll react to me."

"Don't worry, I warned her." said a familiar voice, and both Mary and Kitten looked up.

"Brother!"

Mary flew across the courtyard and Steve reached out. She briefly solidified and his arms closed round her.

"I missed you. How's mum? She still trying to ignore what I've become?"

"I'm afraid so." said Steve as he released her. "She's become incredibly religious, joined one of the local churches. We hardly talk any more."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault." said Steve. "We did what we had to, to keep you alive. Well, sort of alive. Ish. Good afternoon, Kitten. Hey, Clara, this is my little sister, Mary. Mary, I'd like to introduce you to my fiancee, Clara."

"Steve's told me about you." said the woman entering the room. "I must admit, I didn't realize you'd look so cute."

Mary blushed and briefly vanished, then faded back into visibility.

"Sorry, didn't mean to do that. Nice to meet you. Steve, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Didn't know I was, until yesterday." Steve grinned. "I'm here as part of a delegation, I came ahead to reserve some rooms. Seems that products from this island are all the rage, especially those water-triggered illuminating magestones and the firestarters. The company I joined seeks to buy as many as possible for resale."

Mary nodded. "I see. Umm, Lord Demon's very busy these days, so Marc might be your best bet if you need to go high."

"Nope." laughed Steve. "We already have our contact. The rest of the party's coming over tomorrow. I've already booked the rooms with Fang back there. So, until tomorrow, it's all free time. Perhaps I can buy you something?"

Mary shook her head and Steve grinned.

"Kitten, since you and sis are such good friends, do you want to join us? I don't yet know any good coffee shops or cafe's around here and I'd be happy to treat you in exchange for your knowledge."

"I do know one just round the corner." said Kitten, walking towards them. "I'd be happy to take you there."

"Claire, this is Kitten, she works here and is one of Mary's friends. She also served as a witness for Mary's transformation. And yes, she is one of the Changed."

"A pleasure to meet you." said Claire, offering her hand. Kitten shook it lightly, then glanced at Mary.

"Shall we?"

Mary paused. "Ah, I don't have any money on me, so I can't treat you all... I can go and get some..."

" _My_ treat." said Steve quickly. "Umm, sis, do you actually _eat_ these days?"

.

"So you've been a ghost for almost two years now?" asked Claire, fascinated, and Mary nodded with a smile.

"Well, technically I'm currently a magic-enhanced astral projection from someone in an induced coma, whatever _that_ means, but yeah. Took quite a bit of getting used to, especially how different stuff looks to me now."

Steve and Claire exchanged confused glances while Kitten smiled.

"Go ahead. Tell them."

"I can see things like I used to, but I can also see magic, auras and other things like that, sort of overlaid on the world without actually interfering. I can see the not-colors of your auras, and there's a lot of love in there for each other. You two really mesh well. You may want to rush the wedding, though."

Claire looked at her and Mary gave a significant glance at her lower torso. For a couple of moments, Claire stared, then she gasped.

"No way? I am? But how long..."

"About three weeks, I'd say." said Mary. "Looks about that. I don't see any problems, but you may want to check with a Healer, just in case. By the way, it's twins."

Claire stared at her, then glanced at Kitten, who nodded.

"Your scent told me you were with child, but I didn't know more than that." At Claire's incredulous expression, Kitten continued. "I'm a Changed, remember? I have some very sharp senses. I can recognize people by their scents. Even Mary."

"I have a scent?"

"Nope." said Kitten smugly. "And that's how I know it's _you_."

Mary opened her mouth, paused, then closed it again. Steve started to chuckle and Claire smiled.

"You walked into that one, sis."

Mary shrugged and Steve leaned across.

"You're growing overly transparent again. People are staring."

Mary frowned slightly and re-solidified.

"Sorry, staying solid is like tensing muscles. I can keep it up for a while, then I need to just relax for a bit. I'm getting better at staying solid, though. And it seems easier to look solid than _be_ solid, if that makes any sense."

"So you only need to _tense_ while you're moving things." said Claire. "I see, that must make it easier."

Mary stared at her, then dramatically slapped her forehead.

"Only when I need to... Oh, I am such an _idiot_. I was trying to be solid _all the time_. No wonder I was getting tired. Claire, you are a genius!"

"Doesn't Lord Demon help you?" asked Kitten and Mary sighed.

"He walks me through how to do different things, but then he lets me decide how to use the tricks he shows me. I bet he's been laughing at me."

"No, I wasn't." said a voice from behind them and they all twisted to stare at Demon, who was approaching them. "I _did_ find it slightly amusing, though."

"Sir! Am I needed back at the Palace?"

"No, I'm just passing by." said Demon, smiling gently at them. "I have a meeting with a certain religious personage. We're trying to codify the new religion and link it to existing festivals. I'd like to stay and chat, but I have to get moving. Mary, I'm giving you tomorrow morning free as well. If you need more, come and ask."

"Thank you, sir."

They watched Demon walk off, then Claire spoke.

"That... was..."

"Lord Demon." said Kitten, admiringly. "He's really something, isn't he. And so sexy. That voice alone, so deep and smooth. His chest muscles, his arms... And I don't even know if he's straight or gay. No-one does."

Mary glanced at Kitten curiously.

"Is this an adult-thing?"

"Um, yes. Sorry."

"I agree, a bit." said Claire. "I don't think he's as sexy as Steve, but he does have a certain... something."

"Thanks." said Steve with a grin. "Maybe I'll try and be devilish tonight."

As Claire blushed, Kitten laughed.

"The walls are magic-enhanced to be soundproof." she said with a wink.

"That means you can sleep well, yes?" said Mary, then she looked round. "Why are you all laughing at me? What did I miss?"

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Three**

Demon stared at the small child shivering in the arms of the snakewoman, then he turned his gaze onto the bound and gagged human kneeling in front of him.

"What happened to the others?"

"The others are being given counselling and their families are being contacted, although we don't have much hope for reunions given their cultural backgrounds. Several have already asked to undergo the Change and start new lives."

Demon nodded at Marc's comment, then his gaze switched back to the child.

"And her?"

"Apparently, he brought her for... personal use." said Marc, his voice flat. "He intended to use the others to make money..."

"As prostitutes." said Demon. "Illegal ones, forced service, no taxation or medical backup, thus more profit to him. And to bring a six-year old child into this..."

Demon broke off as the girl looked up at him. A moment later, she wriggled free of the lady holding her and ran across to him. For a moment, they stared at each other, then she held out her arms, her eyes filled with pleading.

"Very well." said Demon, scooping her up and settling her in his arm so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. "Is there any doubt as to his guilt?"

"It was confirmed by the testimony of those he had tried to control, and from his own lips under the geas of truth."

"Then _I_ shall pass judgement and sentence as is my right." said Demon, raising his free hand and summoning his magic. "Your crimes are despicable and your guilt is confirmed. You acted out of a desire for money and an eagerness to hurt others. So, I now place these bindings upon you."

The man's eyes widened and he started to shake his head as Demon continued. "Your seed shall be sterile from this moment on, you shall never sire children. Your sexual capabilities are no longer active, you shall never become physically aroused. And should you lay a hand in violence on another, for any reason, you will suffer ten times the pain you inflict."

Magery flared up around the man, then died down.

"You are banished from my lands. Should you try to re-enter, you will die as soon as you reach the Shield. All the money you have in your accounts and the things you brought with you, save only the clothes you wear now, shall be taken and used to provide for those you sought to abuse. That is my will and judgement. Take him away."

The two wolfmen flanking the man seized him, lifted him bodily from the floor and carried him out of the hall. Demon sighed and lowered his head, resting his forehead against his free hand.

"If not for the fact that I have sworn not to kill, he would now be a pile of ashes." he said. "Tell me true, Marc. Was it enough?"

"No." said Marc. "For his crimes and perversions, he deserved worse. But if you had done so, you would have lost the moral authority that we all respect and admire. Will the bindings hold beyond your borders?"

"Yes, I tied them to his life-force, anchoring them deep so they could not be removed without killing him." said Demon. "His lifespan will be shorter, but the spells will hold until he dies."

For several minutes, silence descended on the throne room, then the lady moved forwards.

"Lord Demon?"

"Yes, Naga... I'm sorry. You name is..?"

"Selene. Selene Carlson" said the snake-woman with a slight smile. "Have you reached a decision about what is happening with the girl? I can try to find a new family for her, if you wish, or I can take her in myself."

The girl shook her head and clung tightly to Demon. He looked at her, then reached up and placed his finger under her chin, raising it so she looked into his eyes.

"And what is your name?"

"A... Angelina."

Demon smiled reassuringly at her. "You are safe on my island, little Angelina. Have no worries on that score. Now, do you wish a new family, or shall I have your old one called?"

"Don't have parents." said Angelina, her eyes filling with tears. "Don't have anyone else. Can I stay with you?"

"On my island, certainly..." began Demon, then he stopped as she shook her head.

"With _you_." she insisted.

Demon looked at her, then glanced at Marc.

"Ummm... Marc..."

"Don't look at me." he said. "That is _not_ part of my job description."

Demon glared at him, then looked back into Angelina's eyes.

"Why? I'm big, old, scary-looking..."

"Don't care." she said, burying her face into the curve of his neck. "Don't care what you look like, you _will_ keep me safe."

Demon raised an eyebrow, then lightly placed his hand on her head. Closing his eyes, he probed lightly, then opened his eyes again.

"Very well, as from today, you are my ward."

"Sir?"

"Angelina is an seer." Demon said as he stood, cradling Angelina in his arms. "Her precognition skills are powerful, but erratic, uncontrollable and currently limited in scope to her future, and the futures of those she loves. When she comes of age, she will prove a true asset to the Island."

"A precog?" came a new voice and Angelina's head snapped round, her expression shocked. Demon used the opportunity to lower her to the floor.

"Angelina, this is Mary. She is special, which is why you can literally see through her. You can trust her, she works for me. Mary, this is Angelina, the newest inhabitant of the palace and a pure-blood human. Please take her to Lucy for a bath and a medical check-up. Marc, prepare a small suite for her."

Angelina gave him a pleading look and Demon sighed.

"Okay. Clear out the storage room of _my_ chambers. We can move her to a suite of her own when she adjusts."

.

Demon opened his eyes and started to sit up, then froze. Marc finished opening the curtains and picked up the tray on which two mugs sat.

"One super-large coffee, black, strong and super-caffeinated, just how you like it, sire." he said as Demon carefully extracted himself from Angelina's sleeping hug. "And for Angelina, a small mug of tea. I see that she crept into your bed yet again, sire."

"Yes." said Demon ruefully, taking the proffered mug and sipping. "The weather isn't cold, so it can't be my body temperature."

Angela stretched and yawned, then opened her eyes and smiled up at Demon, who reached down and helped her into a sitting position. Marc passed the light cup to her and she took a sip.

"Your schedule for today, sir." Marc said, pulling out a scroll from his tunic. "The sorcerers circle asks for your help in dealing with a backlog of people wanting to be Changed, even with the transformation crystals, they're losing ground."

"It can't be helped." said Demon, handing back the empty mug and standing up. "However, the magenode won't support many more chambers there, and the spells are very complex, it would take me at least a month or two to recreate them elsewhere, during which time..."

"You would not be able to help with as many of the Changes. Yes sir. I penciled that in for the morning. In the afternoon, you have that diplomatic meeting."

"He wants you to marry one of his daughters." said Angela sleepily, causing both Demon and Marc to stare at her. "What? He does, he wants to get the magebombs. What _are_ magebombs and why would he want them?"

Demon and Marc swapped glances, then Demon nodded.

"Precognition. But applied to _me_..?"

Angela rose from the bed and placed her mug on the tray.

"Angelina, it may be boring, but this afternoon, will you be by my side?"

Angelina nodded with a wide smile on her face, then her gaze flipped to the door leading to her room. A second later, Mary flew through it, re-solidifying as soon as she cleared it.

" _There_ you are. Come on, it's time for your bath, then you need to get dressed. You can't spend all day in your pajamas."

"But they're comfy." said Angelina as she accepted the proffered hand and let Mary start towing her off. Demon watched her go, then looked at Marc.

"What?"

"You like having her around, don't you?"

Demon sighed and started to remove his sleeping trousers. "It's something I learned from my old friend, it was a legend among his kind. Until I met Angelina, I thought that it was just a myth."

"Many thought you were one, until you appeared, sir." said Marc. "Tell."

Demon nodded as he accepted the first piece of clothing. "If a human devotes him or herself fully to one of the Greater Immortals, such as myself, a resonance is created. Different emotions cause different resonances, the strongest two are love and hate."

"The power of love..." mused Marc. "You mean..?"

"Yes." said Demon. "She loves me, and she trusts me for some strange reason. Absolutely. She isn't holding anything back, I know."

"I guess you would." agreed Marc, stepping forwards to adjust the straps. "And that means..?"

"That having her around means my magery is more powerful." said Demon. "It is easier for me to cast spells, I can do it faster and more accurately, and I recover faster. In an odd way, she acts like a… a _focus_ for my magery, enhancing it."

Marc nodded. "So that is why you ask her to accompany you when you are doing your great spells. But the meeting..?"

"Precognition." Demon reminded him. "Her power is growing, enhanced by the ambient magic around her, and she is learning to control it. She will soon provide me with warnings of the traps others wish to set."

Demon started to stride towards the door, then he paused, his eyes abstracted.

"While I'm thinking about this, I want him off-balance. Have Mary serve him refreshments, she's finally got the hang of moving things _without_ losing her transparency. I want her to use that skill for this to remind him that here, we're playing by _my_ rules."

"Of course." grinned Marc. "Oh, one more thing. We may have a second ghost-candidate soon. I received a plea from the father of a young girl with a terminal illness. They'll be coming over in three days time... Should I arrange a meeting?"

"Yes." said Demon. "The girl may choose to accept _otherlife_ , or she may simply live her final week to the fullest. I will not pressure her either way. Hmmm, have Mary as part of the two assigned to her. See if Kitten is available for hire, too."

.

"I hope you do not mind if my ward sits in on this meeting, Prince Abdul." Demon rumbled as Angelina perched on his lap, leaning against his arm. "I see it as a part of her ongoing education."

"Not... Not a problem." returned the Arabic Prince, glancing into the corner where Mary floated semi-transparently, waiting for the time to refill the goblets on the large table. Behind the prince, a young veiled woman stood.

"Then we begin." said Demon. "I have read your message. Why do you think we need more oil here?"

"You have a large marina and airport. The boats and planes will need oil and fuel." said Abdul. Demon shook his head.

"Arrangements have already been made and have proven satisfactory." he rumbled. "But that is not the issue here. You are worried about the conquest of Iraq by the Iranians."

Abdul stared at him, then recovered.

"You really believe in coming to the point."

"State your position and requests."

Abdul took a deep breath. "Your devices of magic are catching on amongst my people. The firelighters, the magestones which drink in sunlight and release it when wet, the illusion-stones which can hold a perfect likeness of a loved one... and there are rumors. Rumors of magery which act as weapons. Of crystals which throw flame, of jewels which transform simple cloth into unbreakable armor. And of magebombs, which turn all technology within a mile into little more than useless metal and explosives which do not explode."

"The rumors are true." said Demon. "And the last thing you spoke of is held by only two nations, my own lands and America. Why do you think that they are so eager to ensure that none move against me? Do not ask for the magebombs, I made a promise that only America and my land would have them as long as they held true."

"And if you gained new lands, or joined the ruling family of one, would that allow for magebombs to be deployed?"

Demon slowly smiled.

"Before this morning, I would have been unable to answer that question. The answer is _technically_ yes, but I would caution you against your next question. I am the last of the Dyaivial, I am not, and never was, a human. I am not one of the Changed, although my magic went into making them. For me to marry a human would be like you marrying a... well, there is no real comparison. Do not offer the hand of the one behind you. Instead, approach America, and ask for them to send 'observers'. If the 'observers' happen to carry magebombs as their personal luggage, that is nothing to do with _me_ and violates no known treaty."

Abdul stared at him, then slowly nodded.

"I see. You truly do not believe in the niceties of diplomacy."

"You humans have maybe a century to live, not much more." said Demon. "In that case, why waste time? To me, who is older than the religion you follow, time has a different meaning, but since I have so much still to do, I refuse to waste it."

"And the armor-jewels?"

"Speak to the weapons-mages." said Demon, motioning to Mary. She smiled and floated over with a scroll that Demon had prepared earlier. "Here is a list of the weapons-mages, the things they make and which ones can be used outside the shield. Bear in mind that their use is limited since they rely only on the magic stored within them. To rely too much on magic outside the Shield would be... unwise."

.

"Why don't you want to marry?"

Demon looked down at Angelina, one eyebrow raised.

"What?"

Angelina looked up at him, both her hands holding his larger one tightly. "What you told that Sheikh, that you did not wish to marry. Why?"

Demon scooped her up and sat her on his shoulder, allowing him to increase his walking speed.

"I am not human. Even the longest-lived of the Changed will live less than a thousand years, my race can easily live a hundred, or even a thousand times longer. I will see generation upon generation of those I care for grow old and die while I continue. I have seen too much death already, which is why I insist that all those who work at the palace are Changed. It will not reduce the pain I will feel as they pass beyond, but I will have more time with them as friends."

For a few minutes, Angelina pondered his answer as they moved down the hallways.

"I'm not Changed, and I work here."

"You are my ward. The few jobs you do, you do because you want to help those here that you have befriended. You are also too young to undergo the Change. When you are fully grown, I will give you the option, should you wish. Until then, know that I shall protect you. Even if you do still insist on sneaking into my bed."

"But you're so comfy!" came the laughing reply. "And you're so warm and reassuring."

Demon shook his head slightly, being careful not to dislodge her.

"As you grow, you will learn and you will want more room for yourself. Even the lowest-ranking servant in the palace has their own suite, you have only a single room."

"But you have such nice rooms, and you let me use them." said Angelina. "And you let me go anywhere in the palace, except the mens bathing halls. Apart from when I'm helping to clean them, that is. I expected them to be... different."

"You mean that they are slightly smaller and more spartan than the ones you use?" asked Demon with a grin. "Males tend to spend less time bathing, they do it quicker. The bathing arrangements reflect that."

"Yours is so... basic." said Angelina in a tone of voice bordering on the scolding. "You are the ruler of this land, and your bathing room is... well, it should be... _more_."

"I shaped the bath so that I could relax comfortably. The warm spring is the perfect temperature for me. Why do I need gold plating and diamonds, like lesser rulers? I do not see the need to flaunt my wealth when I can just as easily use it to help others."

Angelina nodded, then half-squirmed round. Demon reflexively caught her as she descended and she hugged him tightly. "What?"

"Just wanted to hug you." she said, her voice slightly muffled. "I said I'd help Lucy soon."

"I'm heading over to the house of healing, where she is." said Demon, pausing on the balcony. "Shall we fly?"

Angelina squealed in glee and let Demon swing her round so that she was on his back. Spreading his wings, he waited while she hooked her legs into his harness and grabbed the special straps at his shoulders.

"Ready!"

Demon nodded and leapt into the air, his wings beating as they gained altitude.

.

"Lord Demon."

"Lucy, you are doing well?"

Lucy nodded, then moved round to behind Demon. "Kneel, good. Come on, Angel. Time to get down."

Demon waited until Angelina was back on the ground, then straightened up and offered his arms. Angeline instantly latched onto his left arm, standing almost on tiptoe to do so, while Lucy, chuckling softly, placed her hand on his right arm.

"So, what did you want?"

"The Healers are currently discussing ways of combining healing magery with modern medical techniques."

"Would that involve electronics? If so, I cannot see it happening on this island, unless you wish for me to drop the protective spells and leave us open to the almost-certain attacks from the fanatics who still hate this land because of me."

"We're seeking ways of substituting magery for technology." said Lucy, then she made a face. "I cannot believe I actually _said_ that. A few years ago, I would have had myself committed before saying such a thing. Anyway, the visiting docs are amazed at how well magery works on things like preventing infections and so on, but the spells don't last long unless they're connected to a magesource. And the ones outside the Island are... weak. Not good for large-scale things."

"I know." said Demon. "The other magelines are still growing stronger. In a thousand years, they may be almost as strong as the ones here. I am looking forwards to that day."

"Magitech." grinned Lucy. "Magic and technology working as one. Should be interesting."

"An interesting term." rumbled Demon as they entered the hall, causing a wave of silence to spread out as the people turned to stare at him. "I take it you grabbed it from somewhere?"

"Yep, but not a clue where." said Lucy. "Anyway, I was wondering. The north-eastern island which is currently unused, most of it lies outside the Shield, but close enough in to be fed from the MageNodes. Any chance we could use part of it for Magitech medical research?"

Demon nodded slowly. "Yes, that would work. I'll have to re-arrange my schedule to perform the required spells and since I'd have to do that, I can set it up so that I can add more Change-chambers there. Quite a few more. A good thought."

"Well, we'll discuss it in depth later." Lucy said, glancing down. "Angelina, this will almost certainly be boring for you, so if you want to help my assistant instead, she's over there."

Angelina looked up and, when Demon gave her a reassuring nod, she detached herself and scampered over. Demon and Lucy watched her go.

"She really loves you. I heard she pulled her bed-switch trick again last night."

"She did."

"It'll lead to some interesting experiences when she hits puberty and the hormonal mood swings that come with it."

Demon froze, then sighed. Lucy grinned up at him.

"Hadn't thought about that, had you?"

"No, I hadn't." said Demon ruefully. "Now I have yet _another_ potential problem to worry about."

"No charge." laughed Lucy. "Now, come on. It's time for the meeting to start."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Four**

"...and so, using more traditional-style film cameras powered by clockwork and with the aid of a magical sound-gem, we are able to film in this place, Haven City, the capital of Devil's Island. " said the reporter, holding a small wand with the aforementioned sound-gem attached. The cameraman slowly panned the camera on its tripod, taking in the panorama of the city as the reporter continued.  
"Devil's Island, a place of mystery and magic. In existence for almost two years, allied with the USA and denounced by almost every theocratic country on the planet, Devil's Island remains peaceful and happy under the benevolent eye of Lord Demon. This is Michelle Carter. And cut."

The cameraman pulled a small lever and the whirring from the camera stopped. Unfolding another lever, he began to crank it.

"Give me a minute to wind the springs back up and we'll be good."

Michelle nodded and turned her gaze to the palace above the city.

"I wonder if we'll be able to interview the Demon himself? What do you think, John? Do we have a chance of that?"

"Dunno." said the cameraman, returning the crank to its niche and placing the lens-cap on. "But getting film of Devil's Island? That'll make your rep for sure. The sun is setting, we should head back. Without electronics, we won't be able to get any usable shots soon."

.

"I am standing on the Grand Medical Island, outside the Gabrera Memorial Hospital where many doctors, nurses and Healers work. With me is Lucy Garon, one of the first Elves and the Master-Healer of the hospital. Good morning, Lucy."

Lucy smiled. "Good morning, Michelle."

"There are rumors among outsiders that Healing is unnatural. As a Healer, how would you describe Healing, and what are your thoughts on it?"

"Healing is just that, persuading the body to return to its pre-injury state. It cannot be used to cure genetic problems alone, although it can and is used to aid in rapid recovery from surgery. As for it being unnatural, much of what we take for granted nowadays, vaccinations, aspirin, surgery, hygiene, was denounced as unnatural at one point or another, an accusation which is technically true. A better question would be _is it harmful_ , and the answer is _not if used wisely_. We act according to the Hippocratic Oath, as do almost all medical professionals in the world. All that differs is that we have a few extra talents and skills, but tend not to use the high-tech equipment that most people now take for granted."

"How do you cope without things like the CAT scan?"

"We do have them in the area outside the Shield, but generally we use magic." grinned Lucy. "Lord Demon has instructed quite a few of us in the basics of magery, and we have taken the knowledge and expanded on it. We have spells that let us see, in real-time, what is happening inside someone. We can pinpoint problems with ease and plan treatments accordingly. With a combination of Healing and medicines, we can cure almost any type of disease or injury, assuming that the patient is strong enough. Healing does take a toll on the patient's body, after all."

"A toll?" asked Michelle curiously.

"Some of the Healing comes from the Healer, but it merely enhances and guides the natural healing factor of the patient. It is somewhat... tiring for the recipient. A bit like running a marathon, for instance. As such, magical Healing relies quite a bit on how the recipient is, it can temporarily stabilize those near death, but the less the patient can contribute, the harder it is for a Healer. It's only magic, not miracles."

"An interesting explanation."

Lucy shrugged. "It's true. We have had a number of terminal cancer patients come here to die, since our use of magic lets them live out their final week or so without pain and with at least some of their vitality restored. However, the spell works by increasing the usage of life force, draining it faster than the body can generate it. To put it another way, it makes the candle burn brighter, but faster."

"Then why..."

"Because it lets them spend their last days making new memories for their families. After they are gone, the memories of them that remain will not be of dying, bedridden yet brave patients, but as they were before they fell ill, however temporary it may have been. The choice, as always, is theirs."

"And what's the longest that this effect has lasted for a dying patient?"

Lucy froze, then frowned. "That question is far more interesting than you know, but due to patient confidentiality, I cannot answer it at this time. Sorry."

"I see. To change the subject, you live in the palace?"

"I do, with my husband, Marc. He's Lord Demon's Butler and Seneschal."

"Can you describe the palace?"

"Why?" asked Lucy. "Just apply for permission and you'll probably be allowed to film it for yourself. Heck, I'll even write you an introductory note, if you want."

.

"The palace, the home of Lord Demon, his staff and other important functionaries." Michelle said as John slowly panned the camera across the front of the palace and across the gardens. "The most imposing building in the city, the most important place on the entire island. It is from here that Lord Demon watches benevolently over those who live on his lands."

John finished the pan and switched off the camera.

"Got it, okay. How did this... ah, got it." he said as the camera rose slightly on its stand. "Still freaks me out, but these lift-gems work great. Okay, shall we go and... hey, there's a little girl coming."

Michelle turned and smiled at the approaching, frowning girl.

"What are you doing?"

"Making a documentary of Devil's Island." said Michelle. "I'm Michelle Carter and this is my cameraman and assistant, John Grey. Who are you, and may I ask what you are doing here? I was under the impression that all the staff here were Changed."

"I'm Angelina." said the girl, stopping and looking at her appraisingly. "This is my home."

Michelle stared at her for a moment.

"You live here with your parents?"

Angelina shook her head. "No, I'm an orphan."

"Then..."

"Angelina? Angelina?! There you are!"

All three of them turned to face the young maid moving towards them through the long grass and Angelina dashed forwards with a glad cry, leaping into her arms.

"Thank you for looking after her. I hope she wasn't a nuisance. Oh, I'm Mary."

"No trouble at all." smiled Michelle, studiously ignoring John's surreptitious efforts to get her attention. "I'm Michelle Carter and I'm making a documentary about Devil's Island. Who do I speak to about getting permission to film inside the palace?"

"If you can look after Angelina for a second, I'll get someone."

Michelle nodded and Mary lowered Angelina. The two of them whispered for a moment, then Angelina stood back and looked at Michelle with an expectant expression. An instant later, Mary faded out of sight and Michelle's jaw dropped.

"What the..."

Angelina started to giggle and John shook his head.

"Damn, I thought I'd seen it all, but... how'd she _do_ that?"

"Mary's a ghost." chuckled Angelina. "She can do all sorts of things."

"A ghost." repeated Michelle in a flat voice. "John, you don't seem very surprised."

"I wasn't expecting _that_." he replied. "But I knew something was strange when I saw her walking across the wet grass without leaving footprints in the dew. A ghost."

"She's really nice." said Angeline. "She helps look after me. She was dying of cancer, so she asked Demon for help. He put her into a deep sleep and placed her body in a special crystal, and she became a ghost."

Michelle shook her head to clear it. "So, how many normal humans live here?"

Angelina frowned. "Marc and Lucy are elves, Mary is... Johann... Sandra... I think I'm the only one. Why?"

"Aren't you lonely?"

"Nope!" came the instant answer. "I've got lots of friends here and if I'm sad, I ask Demon to hug me until I'm feeling better."

Michelle stared at her, then shook her head again.

"This has just gone straight _through_ the twilight zone." she said. "Umm, how did you get here in the first place?"

"A bad man brought her with him, intending to abuse her while he built his criminal empire." rumbled a deep voice from behind them, causing them to spin round and stare at the imposing form of Demon, who was folding his wings and straightening up from his silent landing. Angelina sprinted to him and Demon swung her up into a hug as he continued. "After we rescued those whom he had sought to control, Angelina here was left without anyone to take her in, and was too young to earn her own way. I agreed to take her in as my ward until she reaches her majority. I understand that you wish to film inside my palace for your documentary?"

Michelle nodded and Demon smiled as Mary re-materialized by his side.

"I would be glad to show you around. But you'd better let me adjust the spell on that crystal first. You only have two hours memory on it, I can expand it to a full day."

"Thanks." said Michelle in a quiet voice.

.

"...and this is my work room, where I do much of my magical work." said Demon, waving round with the hand not being held by Angelina. "Room is something of a misnomer, it's actually a work _suite_. This is the central hall. My library is through there, with my study and minor mage-room next to it. Through that doorway is the primary magestone of the island, the amount of magical potential in it is so great that even _I_ have to be very careful when linking new spells directly to it. Anyone else tries, it would kill them. Next to it is my spellroom, I created it to allow me to do spells without risking magical backwash harming those in the palace. And that door is my naproom and small restroom. Sometimes I need to remain here for several days to oversee a complex piece of magery or to watch an experiment."

"And the door there?"

Demon followed the motion and then closed his eyes in concentration. A moment passed, then he opened his eyes again.

"John, I am sorry, but I must ask you to stop filming. Michelle, I have just paused the recording-spell. I have permission to show you, but only you. Mary will meet us there. John, please stay here."

"Yes sir."

.

"So what was down there?"

Michelle blinked, then looked up at John, then down at her plate again.

"Michelle?"

"Sorry." she said. "But it was the reason he left below the work room for last."

John watched her for a few moments as she picked listlessly at her food, then he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"What was it? Tell me."

"It was... it was... a cave of..."

"A cave of crystals." came a second voice. "Each about seven feet long and rising at an angle out of the ground, surrounding the lower portion of the magestone in circles. More set into the walls, almost a dozen dozen of them in total. And in one of the crystals, the body of a small twelve-year old girl, eyes closed and wearing a simple cotton robe."

John looked up at Kitten, his eyes wide.

"You've seen it?"

"I was there when Mary was placed into her crystal." confirmed Kitten. "I think Mary's still a bit shy about it, she probably didn't want a strange _man_ ogling her. I was honored that she asked me to be one of her witnesses to her transformation."

"She looked like..."

"Like she was sleeping, but without moving." finished Kitten. "The magery in the crystal holds her perfectly preserved while allowing her soul to move. Astral projection. By tapping into the magery, she can manifest and use certain powers. If the spell breaks or she chooses to emerge from the crystal, she will die within a day or two."

"You seem very well-informed for a member of staff at an inn." remarked John and Kitten laughed.

"Mary is my friend. I'm also friends with her brother and her sister-in-law. They visit occasionally and they've named their first daughter after her."

"Brother?" asked Michelle, shocked out of her near-trance. "She has a _brother_?"

"Yep, he's older than her, he's full-human and he's married." said Kitten. "He's got a job that brings him here occasionally, and he holidays here whenever he can. He's actually cute, for a pure-blood human. Ears aren't pointy enough for me, but even so..."

John surprised himself with a bark of laughter.

"Do you mind if we interview you soon? I think several interviews with the Changed, including their reasons for becoming so and what they have gained or lost, would be a very interesting move."

Michelle nodded in agreement and Kitten looked thoughtful, then shrugged.

"What the heck. Sure, why not. But don't just interview _me_ , I'll see if Fang is up for an interview too. Did you get a good interview with Lord Demon?"

"We got the full tour today, he's giving us an official interview the day after tomorrow, thus giving us time to work out what we want to ask." said John.

"I've got that day off. Mind if I tag along? It'll be good to see Mary again."

.

Michelle watched the door close behind Mary and Kitten, then turned back to where John was directing the placement of the magelights for maximum effect, lights that had been created by Demon, and were floating around under his control.

"...and lock it there. Okay, that'll cut out that final shadow. Can you hold them for the interview, sir?"

"They'll remain there until I dismiss them." said Demon. "I've already set the required spells in place to maintain them until I decide otherwise."

"Cool." said John. "Lights, but no real heat. 'Chelle, setup is complete and I'll wide-angle the thing so that we can cut-flip later. Ready when you are."

Michelle nodded and moved over to the smaller chair, seating herself in it nervously. Demon sat down in the larger chair and Angelina scampered across and held out her arms. Almost absently, Demon picked her up and sat her on his lap, where she promptly snuggled up against him.

"Sorry, do you mind if..."

"Not at all." said Michelle with a smile. "John, ready?"

"Start up the sound and I'll give you the countdown to the camera rolling."

Michelle nodded and lightly touched the jewel on the small table between her and Demon. The jewel started to glow and John held up his hand.

"Fully wound, film checked. Rolling in five... four... three... two..."

John dropped his hand and the camera started to whir. Michelle smiled professionally into the lens.

"This is Michelle Carter with an interview with Lord Demon of Devil's Island, and his ward, Angelina. Lord Demon, from what I have seen so far, you must be incredibly proud of what you have achieved so far. This is one of the most peaceful lands I have ever seen, the citizens here seem happy even without modern technology."

"And why should modern technology be required for happiness?" said Demon in a slightly chiding voice. "Those who choose to come here are, by their very nature, those inclined to mysticism, to religion, or those who choose not to or cannot walk the paths trodden by the majority. They come here seeking a new life and I am happy to grant it."

"Very literally, in many cases." said Michelle. "Several countries have refused to recognize the Changed as being human."

"That is unfortunately so." said Demon, his voice regretful. "But the most important countries, those who seek a better future for all, have generally acceded to my request that the Changed and their offspring be as human for all legal intents and purposes. The current generation of the Changed all started out as human until they chose to move here and petition to undergo transformation."

"The ration of females to males seems... slightly imbalanced." noted Michelle and Demon laughed.

"Many women who have come here have fled from those who would do violence to them. I oversaw the program that gives them sanctuary personally. Here, they learn to stand up once more and build a new future for themselves and their children. Several work in the palace themselves, you can check their stories if you wish."

"I heard several of them earlier." said Michelle. "As a side-note, all of the staff in the palace are Changed, the only one who lives here who has not undergone the Change is your ward, Angelina. I have heard her referred to as the princess of Devil's Island."

Demon and Angelina exchanged surprised glances, then they both burst out laughing. After a moment, Demon wiped his eyes and took a calming breath.

"Sorry, no. A _small_ part of the reason I decided to take in Angelina is because she has the potential to become an Oracle. She has limited precognition abilities and, as she grows up, they will become more powerful now that she is in an environment conducive to such things, with people who know such skills exist. The fact that she's a cute little girl who wants to grow up and help the Island as a whole is a small bonus."

"Angelina, you seem really comfortable with Demon, even though he's... he's..."

"Big and scary-looking." finished Angelina with a wide smile. "He's really nice, though. I love him."

Michelle managed to keep most of her surprise from showing, but Demon's lop-sided smile showed that she'd not succeeded as well as she'd hoped.

"The power of love?"

"Moreso than you think." said Demon. " _I_ care for, and care about, Angelina, and wish to see her grow up to be all she can be. _She_ wants to stay by my side, out of love. It doesn't hurt that she's already made several friends here."

Angelina nodded and leaned harder into Demon's one-handed hug.

.

"Fully wound, film checked. Rolling in five... four... three... two..."

John dropped his hand and the camera started to whir. Michelle smiled professionally into the lens.

"This is Michelle Carter with an interview with Marc Garon, the first of the Changed, currently Lord Demon's butler and seneschal. Marc, is it true that you are the one responsible for the design of Haven City?"

"I am, although it was Lord Demon who did all the original magework." said Marc. "We planned it out using illusions to ensure that we had thought of everything, then Lord Demon tapped into the magery of the island to shape the rock into housing, roads, drains, pipes and the other things a city needs. I thought I was making great progress in magery until I saw what he could do without even needing to meditate beforehand. It was... rather humbling."

"Among the staff here are elves, wolfpeople, feline-sapiens, merfolk, even a ghost..."

Marc raised his hand. "I know she calls herself a ghost, but in actuality she's the manifestation of a magery-enhanced astral projection. She's not actually dead, so the term ghost, while wonderfully descriptive, is not exactly true."

"Sorry. So, is it hard to use such a diverse workforce?

"Oh no." laughed Marc. "You see, the Changes often match to personalities..."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Five**

Flashbulbs popped as the President of the USA shook hands with Demon. By Demon's side, Angelina stared around at the crowd just outside the circular border.

"Quite an embassy." said the President. "I'm still amazed that you managed to set up one of your Gates here."

"It wasn't easy." admitted Demon. "And if not for the large number of mages I had helping me, I could not have done it. Not even with the node underneath our feet."

"Under the Gate, you mean." laughed the President. "A small Gate, allowing for limited usage, yes?"

"Yes. There is a fee of half a million dollars for non-governmental usage of the Gate. Two-way, of course. Messengers and diplomats on official business go free."

They turned and waved to the photographers, then Demon moved aside, revealing his chosen ambassador.

"I must return now. You can cope with the conference?"

"Of course." said the elf with a smile. "My British accent alone will convince them that we're a serious force. Or evil villains. Damn you, Hollywood."

Demon managed not to laugh, then he leaned forwards. "Be aware that outside the embassy, you will age almost half again as fast. You still have four centuries ahead of you, but every two days you spend outside will cost you a third."

"I know, I know." said the elf. "I got it, sire. You can leave this to me."

Demon glanced to one side and the wolfman leading the guard detachment nodded calmly.

"We got it, sire. We'll keep Ambassador Leonidas safe for you, don't worry."

Demon turned back to the President. "By the way, when are you thinking of sending your new ambassador?"

"They're leaving tomorrow." said the President. "They're preparing now and their son is bemoaning the fact he's having to leave his game systems behind."

"I'm sure it'll do him good." said Demon with a smile. "Send them through the Gate, I'd like to meet them, especially since your ambassador will be automatically granted honorary-councillor status as soon as he arrives."

"I'll tell them to head to the embassy via the palace." grinned the President with a smile. "I'll make sure to have a messenger tell you in the morning what time they're expected to arrive."

.

"Wow, that was weird." said the boy, looking round. "From dawn to midday in a single step."

"Are you Ambassador Samuel Jameson and family?"

The ambassador looked round and his gaze settled on a young girl who was smiling at him.

"I am. You are?"

"I'm Angelina. Lord Demon sent me to bring you to the palace, one of the centaur herds has agreed to carry you. This way, please."

The three newcomers exchanged glances, then moved forwards.

"I'm Beatrice, this is our son Jordan. Did you say we are going to ride centaurs?"

Angelina shook her head frantically. "No! _No_! _Never_ use that word around them! They are going to _carry_ us. You can ride a horse, but you get _carried_ by a centaur. Very important. They _don't_ like being referred to in the same way as horses. Horses have reins and are controlled, centaurs don't and aren't."

"Understood." said Samuel. "Jordan, you got that? Good. Don't say anything of a horsey nature."

Angelina smiled as they exited the gate courtyard, then she bowed to the quartet of centaurs waiting for them.

"Ambassador." said the oldest one in greeting. "We are here to carry you to the palace for your meeting with Lord Demon. I am Herd-leader Firebeard. With me are my wife, Skysinger and my two oldest children Thunderhoof and Featherdance."

"I thank you for agreeing to carry us." said Samuel with a bow and Firebeard sank to his knees, as did the others. Angelina quickly hopped onto Featherdance's back and balanced perfectly as she rose.

"Climb on." said Firebeard as Skysinger started to talk quietly to Beatrice and Thunderhoof shook Jordan's hand. "We have a few miles ahead of us."

"Forgive me for asking, but you all seem to be rather more... centaur-stereotypical than I had expected from a Changed one."

Firebeard laughed and turned his upper torso so that he could look back at his passenger.

"Of course we are. And we take great pleasure in being so. All centaurs are trained in archery and jousting, as well as the use of long-swords. Unlike most of the other Changed, we are not a revived species, so we looked to mythology and fiction for a guide as to how we should be."

"Our example has spread." commented Thunderfoot, with a glance at his father. At the nod, he continued. "Most of the other Changed-races now look to mythology for cues as to how they _should_ behave. The wolfmen form packs, the feline-sapiens often seek jobs serving those they like and act as unofficial bodyguards, the merfolk cooperate with the fishermen and save those who are in danger of drowning... acting like the stereotype has almost become the national sport. Like British understatement."

"I... see." said Samuel slowly. "That says interesting things about this land, though."

"Indeed." said Skysinger. "We all owe Demon our new lives and, as long as we stay on the Island, our aging is slowed measurably. Sort of gives us a powerful incentive to look out for this place."

"Several of the herds are considering moving off the island." said Firebeard seriously. "They are debating the whole shorter lives/able to use technology thing quite intensely. Since some come from American-Indian stock, the conversations can get very... mystical at times."

For several moments, they traveled in silence, then Samuel looked at the pair ahead of them.

"She's _the_ Angelina, isn't she? Lord Demon's ward?"

"She is." said Skysinger. "And a really good friend to Featherdance. Whenever they both have free days, they often meet up with each other and their other friends."

"No three of which are the same species." chuckled Firebeard. "And the mischief they get into... well, they don't mean ill and they rarely do any damage, but even so..."

"There's a reason we call them the wild zoo." smiled Skysinger. "In a good way, of course."

"We're not _that_ bad!" Angelina shouted back to them.

.

"Ambassador Samuel Jameson, Lady Beatrice Jameson and Master Jordan Jameson." announced Angelina formally as they entered the hall. "Be known to Lord Demon, ruler of Devil's Island."

"Greetings." said Demon, walking over and catching Samuel's hand in a firm handshake. "Welcome to my land."

"It's an honor to be here." said Samuel, looking up at Demon's imposing stature. "Although, I must admit, I expected someone... shorter."

Demon stared at him for a moment, then burst into gales of laughter before managing to regain control. "Damn, you're brave."

"I read your file, Lord Demon." said Samuel with a grin. "Everything from first contact through to your meeting with the President at the opening of the Gate. It's really very fascinating. And it stresses that you have a sense of humor."

Demon smiled and waved them over to where a trio of settees were arranged in a horseshoe shape. As they sat, Demon spoke again.

"I assume that you've been given the full briefing about how life here differs from life anywhere else?"

"I have." Samuel responded. "I'm curious though. Electronics don't work, yet on the way here, I _swear_ I saw a digital clock."

"You probably did." said Demon. "A clockwork one. Several craftsmen here have taken it as a challenge to duplicate electronic devices using clockwork. It's really amazing what they've managed to achieve. There are even a couple of water-powered game cabinets in the main shopping arcade. Those are _really_ popular with the tourists."

"You don't simply use magic?" asked Jordan in surprise, then he blushed as Demon laughed.

"Not usually. You see, magic is... just magic. The art of levers and cogwheels on the other hand, well, here on Devil's Island, we have a large number of mechanical calculators and other such things. Typewriters, printing presses and machines powered by water wheels. Magic requires talent that very few pure-blood humans have, but almost anyone can put cogwheels together. We value innovation and intelligence here."

Samuel nodded slowly and Demon glanced at his wristwatch.

"Ah, almost time for the council meeting. As you are an honorary-Councillor, may I ask you to attend so that I can introduce you to everyone there? Marc will take your family to the embassy."

Samuel looked round as Marc finished stepping through the door and bowed.

"That's very kind of you."

.

Samuel sat down in the almost-sinfully comfortable chair he had been directed to on the upper level and watched as people of various races entered and settled down in the circular chamber. A moment passed, then a deep chime sounded and a centaur with a long lance stepped forwards and banged the base of the lance on a wooden stand on the floor to get attention.

"All rise for Lord Demon."

Samuel stood, as did the others, and Demon entered the hall from behind the giant throne, Angelina by his side. Moving round, he sat on the throne and nodded to the centaur.

"Be seated."

Samuel sat back down as Demon absently picked up Angelina and sat her on his lap so that she could lean against him.

"The centaur is Herald Trueheart, sir." said a quiet voice and Samuel looked round to see a human in a suit standing just beside his chair. "I'm Assistant Consular Brian Richers, your assistant and aide. Your wife was kind enough to inform me as to where you were."

In the chamber below, several people reached forwards and lights glowed above their seats. Demon motioned and all but one of the lights vanished.

"When Lord Demon is not here, High Elder Erik Pryde chooses who speaks by using the board set below the Throne." said Brian, indicating a large desk behind which sat a cat-man with a silvering mane.

"How is the Council set up?"

"It is split into six sub-sections called Circles. The Circle of the Races, with a representative from each species, the Circle of Religions, mainly priests and preachers, the Circle of Enterprise, owners of businesses and rich traders, the Circle of Landsmen, farmers, miners and fishermen, the Circle of Courage, those appointed for acts of bravery and the Outer Circle, comprised of non-Island business representatives and ambassadors, of which you are a member. All in the Circles have the right to speak and all but the Outer Circle can vote, although Lord Demon holds the right of ultimate veto. Each Circle, except again for the Outer Circle, has two leaders known as Elders who are part of the Inner Circle led by the High Elder and which reports directly to Lord Demon."

"The lights?"

Brian looked out at where the the lights were glowing again.

"They indicate the desire to speak to the Council. The light is activated by stroking the crystal on the desk. If you are chosen, it will flash. If you wish to talk to someone, just touch the crystal and say their name, the crystal will relay the conversation as long as you both touch the crystal. Should the crystal glow, it means someone wishes to speak to you, and to accept the call, you simply touch the crystal."

"Like a telephone. But with magic." said Samuel, enlightened. "Nice. What's the discussion about today?"

"I believe that it's about the possible creation of a true military force to protect the island, rather than relying on the Island Watch's External Threats division. The argument..." Brian cut himself off as Demon lowered Angelina to the floor and stood, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. Samuel leaned forwards as Demon started to speak, his voice rolling through the chamber.

"I have heard your arguments before, and I do not see that anything has changed, except the membership of this chamber. Since those new here have obviously not looked in the archives, let me explain why I do not support an army. First, we have alliances with nations which have their own armed forces, forces far larger and more advanced than we could ever hope to field, even if we armed and deployed every adult on these isles. The representative of one such country watches us even now."

Demon waved one hand in an arcing gesture that ended with him pointing to Samuel, and Samuel became aware of everyone staring up at him.

"America in particular values us because only we can provide that which its army desires, the magebombs. Nowhere else can produce them, only on Devil's Island can they be created, and only by myself or five of my most trusted mages. Without _us_ , America has no magebombs, and so they have sworn to protect us.  
"Second, we are already protected by the Great Shield. Within it, technology does not work and explosives are rendered inert. No army can invade us without first trading in their guns for swords. Without distance-attack capability, they cannot stand against our mages and their distance-spells. Our archers are world-class, our swordsmen supreme. The guardsmen _alone_ are more than a match for any external enemy using the same weapons, even excluding the fact we have many races, not just humans.  
"Third, _I_ am here. My magery is far beyond that of anyone else. Someone once said I was the living equivalent of a magical nuke, a description which many of you may appreciate.  
"In conclusion, I see no need for an army here. Should any have such martial desires, such a need for combat, let them leave this land and join the army of another realm. I am sure America in particular would be eager to take in such hot-heads."

Demon sat down and lifted Angelina back into his lap and Samuel reached out to stroke the crystal. Demon gave a small motion and the crystal started to flash. Samuel rose to his feet and looked out at the chamber.

"I am Samuel Jameson, the Ambassador from America. As you probably know, America has passed legislation declaring all of the Changed to be equal in all legal ways to humans. If any of the Changed wish to experience life in the military, I am certain that the Armed Forces will welcome them and the unique capabilities they bring. Be assured that America places the continued protection of Devil's Island on a par with protecting its own lands. Whether you have an army or not, we will continue to extend our protection."

Samuel bowed and sat down. Several seconds passed, then a cluster of lights appeared above a number of desks.

.

Samuel looked up from the desk and leaned back with a sigh of relief as Brian whisked away the final sheet that he had signed, placing it into an envelope.

"I never thought I'd miss computers."

"I know what you mean, sir." said Brian. "Reverting to pen and paper _does_ come as quite a culture shock. Your predecessor was less than happy about the amount of actual paperwork that had to be done."

Samuel nodded. "Well, at least we don't have to worry about bugging devices."

"The embassy is magically-shielded against scrying spells and similar." said Brian and Samuel stared at him.

"Shielded?"

"Yes sir. As with all embassies, the shielding was installed after the embassy was completed, and by a group of mages who testified under truth-geass that they had installed only shielding spells, crafted to the best of their abilities."

Samuel blinked, then frowned.

"Do _we_ have a mage on staff?"

"No sir." said Brian. "We contract out for mages to recharge the spells we use, or we petition for one of Lord Demon's personal mages to perform the task. Either way, they are questioned about their actions under truth-geass afterwards in order to assure us of our security."

Samuel frowned and leaned back in his chair.

"I think we may need to get a few mages of our own."

"We would be unable to deploy them to our other embassies, sir." said Brian cautiously. "Mages can only practice their caft at usable levels on Devil's Island due to the boosted ambient magic here."

"I know." said Samuel. "I remember that part of the briefing. But I would feel better if we had one or two mages of our own. At the very least, it would give us a source for information about the abilities and limitations of magery. And it would allow us to have our spells recharged in-house. I can't believe I just said that."

"Very well, sir." said Brian. "I will send a message to the Palace asking for help in selecting appropriate mages. Should I ask for a Healer as well?"

"Probably a very good idea." said Samuel slowly. "Before you send the message, though, I'll fire a request to the White House, asking for permission to recruit mages, preferably former Americans."

"I'll be happy to personally carry the message across the bridge to the communications spire." said Brian. "It will kick up quite a storm back home, though."

"Oh, I know." grinned Samuel. "I know."

The door opened and both Brian and Samuel turned.

"Hi, dad. Hi, Mr Richars. Sorry I'm late, but I kind of lost track of time. This place is really, really cool. Angelina introduced me to all her friends."

Samuel's grin grew wider.

"So, you're now a member of the wild zoo as well, hmm?"

"Zoo?" asked Brian in confusion as Joseph blushed.

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Six**

"I still don't think that this is a good idea."

The boy in the stretcher looked up at the suited man walking by his side.

"Why are you so opposed to this?"

The man looked round at the bustling concourse, then down at the boy, ignoring the glances being given to him by the two maneuvering the stretcher.

"Until you reach eighteen, you are my ward. I know that you see this as your final hope of defeating cancer, but there must be another way. Making a deal with the devil, _literally!_ does not seem like a good idea to me."

The boy slumped back into his stretcher.

"You heard the doctors, there is no other way. The cancer is too advanced, it cannot be cured by normal means. That leaves magic."

The man looked round as they passed between the glowing pillars. "Well, it may take a while for you to get an appointment with him, so..."

"Excuse me..."

The man and boy both looked to where a young girl in a maid's outfit had managed to appear by the other side of the stretcher.

"Lord Demon got your request, he's waiting for you now. My name's Mary, I've been sent to guide you. This way, please."

.

"William Smithson, I presume."

The boy in the stretcher nodded at the approaching towering figure, then glanced at the two smaller ones accompanying him.

"I, as you have already guessed, am Lord Demon. This is Lucy Garon, the best Healer on the island, and this is my ward, Angelina."

Demon motioned briefly with his hand and William felt the stretcher rise slightly, adjusting smoothly to let him sit. A rattling underneath sounded like the wheels retracting, then the stretcher smoothly slid forwards.

"What the..."

"It's alright." said Mary. "He's just showing off. If you don't want him to move you magically, I will. Sir, can I take over?"

Demon nodded and William felt the stretcher sink slightly before resuming its progress.

"Are you a mage?"

Mary gave him an odd look, then she smiled at him.

"Sort of, I can tap into the magic of the island far more easily than most. It just means I can't actually leave the island. Not without dying."

William nodded, then frowned as a memory resurfaced.

"Mary... Mary... Are you the... the..."

"Ghost?" she giggled, "Yes. My actual body is safe below the palace, preserved by magic. I was dying of cancer, and Demon gave me a new chance to live. Took a while to adjust, but I really like being as I am now."

William nodded slowly. "What would you do if you could be cured?"

Mary frowned. "Good question, I don't know. I really like being like this, I can do so many things I could not do in my body, or which would exhaust me. But to be able to eat, drink and sleep... I simply don't know."

William looked round, noting the size of the corridor.

"You know, I hadn't expected a Demon's home to be so... cheerful. I mean, I saw the documentary, but..."

"You can blame that on the influence of my old friend, Gabrera Ainjar of the Zeraphym." Demon said, glancing back at them. "We parted after we worked together to create the foundations of this island, but we parted as friends, both of us having learned much from each other. I never heard from him again, I think he perished when the magepaths fluxed."

"How long ago was that?" half-whispered William, and Demon gave a slight shrug, his wings rippling with the motion.

"By your calendar, over two millennia ago. I slept through it, insulated from the magery backlash. I had hoped Gabrera would do so also, but... I respect his decision to stand with his own kind. Here we are. Mary, if you would settle him there..."

The stretcher floated to where Demon indicated, then the wheels extended and the stretcher touched down lightly. Demon sat in an over-sized chair facing him, then glanced at the man still accompanying William.

"And you would be?"

"Frederick Darkwood, currently Master Smithson's guardian." came the stiff reply, and Demon grinned mirthlessly.

"You are opposed to this, aren't you?"

"I am." Frederick replied staunchly. "If I understand this correctly, if William undergoes this... procedure, he'll be trapped on this island from now on, and permanently in your service. Enslaved."

"Employed." said Demon calmly. "There is much competition for employment in my palace, becoming an astral projection-type is one of the very few definite ways of gaining employment. A wage will be paid and I do my best to see that the work does not get too onerous. Mary can attest to that."

"Even so, Master Smithson stands to inherit a large company should he survive to reach his majority." snapped Frederick. "If he works for you, that means that his company will be yours!"

Demon leaned back and nodded.

"You may be right. It did not occur to me, because I have little interest in the affairs of normal humans when they are not in my land. I have too much to see to here as it is. Very well. Who currently holds the company for him?"

"Well, the board of directors." said Frederick slowly.

"And are you one?"

Frederick nodded slowly and Demon nodded again. "I see. Then, unless William is healed from the cancer which has brought him to here, the company shall continue to be held _for_ him, but not under his control, nor mine. Should a miracle occur and William is healed fully, then he will leave my service on that day and shall inherit the company. Until such an event occurs, it shall remain controlled by you and the other directors. William, is this acceptable to you?"

William nodded and Demon rose. Walking over to William, he stretched out one hand towards his head.

"Then I shall have my lawyers draw up the necessary documents. Now, however, we must go through the formalities. May I?"

William nodded and Demon lightly placed his hand on his head.

"Just _relax:_

William blinked and realized that he was not in the stretcher, but was standing on a grey plain, surrounded by grey mists.

_:What is this place?:_

_:A good question. This is the place where thoughts exist, the realm of the mind:_ a somehow-familiar not-voice said. William looked round, then glanced down at himself and tried to cover himself with his hands.

_:My clothes!:_

A rustle of fabric sounded and a robe wrapped itself around him.

_:Sorry, I keep forgetting. This is your first time here, so you have yet to learn to visualize clothing. You will learn, should you choose to do so.:_

In front of him, a figure moved forwards out of the mist and William looked up.

_:So, why are you doing this?:_

_:Because I need to know that this is your idea, yours pure and true. That you are willing to become other than human.:_

William looked up at Demon. _:I am, if it means I remain alive.:_

 _:Alive?:_ repeated Demon, amused. _:The term alive is somewhat... debatable should you go through with this. But it has been done before, and if you listen to Mary, she will teach you what you need to know. So, before you decide, some caveats.:_

_:Caveats?:_

_:Words of warning.:_ Demon clarified. _:First, you will be unable to pass beyond the Shield that surrounds my land. Second, you will not age, although those you care about will grow older and, eventually, go beyond the veil into the realms beyond. Third..._

* * *

_._

Frederick stared at the crystal containing William's body, then half-turned to look up at Demon.

"Until you did this, I thought..."

"That I was lying for nefarious reasons of my own." finished Demon with an ironic smile, leading the way to the door, then glancing back to where the astral forms of Mary and William were hovering in the corner in deep conversation. "Mary can teach him how to use his new powers far better than I can and she seems rather fond of him. Having another Astral around will be good for her, and he will have someone to look after him."

Frederick nodded as they exited the chamber and started up the stairs.

"He'll be a mage as well, won't he?"

"His powers will be broadly similar to Mary's." confirmed Demon. "Of course, he's only ten whereas she's twelve, so she can channel slightly more power. Magery, however, is about concentration and willpower, which is why those who have studied martial arts tend to be better at it than those from non-athletic backgrounds."

"And someday, the spells or medicine might be developed to heal him." said Frederick softly.

"Indeed." said Demon. "I have Healers and Medics on the Grand Medical Island looking into how to Heal things which cannot currently be cured with either technology or magery. A synthesis of the two has potential, but it must not be rushed. In his case, we now have, indeed, literally all the time in the world. It will take as long as it takes."

Frederick looked up at him in shock and Demon raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Just as I start thinking of you as being nice, you come out with something as cold-blooded as that?"

"Cold-blooded? No, my body temperature is a full ten degrees higher than that of the standard human." said Demon. "I have it on good authority that it makes hugging me in winter very nice indeed."

"You know what I meant!"

"I look at things as they are, not as how I wish they should be." said Demon softly. "I may seem cruel and heartless at times, but I always try to aim for the best possible outcome."

"The ends justify the means?"

Demon gave him an amused look. "Not at all. Certain means cannot be justified, no matter the end. In fact, certain means _preclude_ the ends."

Frederick shook his head. "I never thought I'd be having a conversation like this with... with..."

"A Devil?" Demon asked with a wry smile. "With any other, this conversation would be impossible. By the standards of my race, I am utterly insane. They would regard me as being a pacifist with no interest in what they thought of as the finer things in life, manipulating and torturing so-called 'lesser beings' of other races. I disagreed with their philosophy, so I allied myself with the natural enemies of my kind, although only one of them truly accepted me as being a genuine defector. Time to change the subject. Do you intend to stay on the island?"

"I... don't know." admitted Frederick. "I have my duty to look after William, but also to oversee the company for him. With the communications problems here, that would be difficult."

"The company arc might be the answer to your problems." said Demon. "Like the Embassy arc, it is located at the edge of the Shield, with spires rising from the sea just beyond, giving a place where technology can be used. Buy a plot, throw a bridge out to the matching spire and place your comm systems there. Simple."

Frederick looked up at him, then nodded slowly. "Interesting. I would have to see this for myself, but if I'm understanding you correctly..."

.

.

The centaurs and werewolves pulled on the thick rope and the bridge slowly extended out towards the large rocky, terraced spire beyond the Shield. Frederick watched, almost unaware of Demon's presence as he concentrated on the process.

"This is where I wish I'd worked harder on bringing back Dragons and Gryphons." Demon said. "Either would have been very useful, despite their limitations."

"Dragons and Gryphons?" repeated Frederick, jerking round to stare up at Demon. "They really existed?"

"They did, in the days of high magery." Demon confirmed. "The Gryphons needed the ambient magery to fly, the Dragons were dependent on the magery and sunlight simply to live, although they could store huge amounts of magery inside themselves. The Dragons were one of the Immortal races, the females were aloof, the males destructive. Gryphons were a mortal race, and a non-sentient one, but they could be tamed. If I ever recreate them, I will see to it that they have sentience."

"Ambient magery..." mused Frederick. "Wouldn't that limit them to your lands?"

"No," said Demon, "But away from here, they will have less agility, speed and stamina. The ambient magery of the world has risen slowly over the last few centuries. For the last decade or so, it has been high enough for Gryphons to fly outside the Shield."

"And Dragons?"

"Not for another few centuries, I fear." Demon said. "And again, I would ensure they were fully sentient. The old Dragons were about as intelligent as a modern gorilla or dolphin. But less friendly."

A cheering announced the touching of the bridge to the distant spire and the figures atop the rock started to secure the ends to the pitons already placed. Frederick glanced to where they were being watched from a bridge leading to the next spire over, then looked at the spire itself.

"Umm, I never asked, how do we get power out there?"

"Wave and tidal generators." said Demon. "There's a large cavern underneath, allowing you to easily install the latter, while the ridges on the far side of the spire are designed for wave generators to be fixed to, allowing them to rise and fall with the tide. There are also anchor points for wind turbines and solar panels. Keep power usage to efficient levels, and you should have no problems."

"That's cool." said a voice from behind them and both Demon and Frederick turned to see William and Mary floating close by, watching the process with interest.

"Interesting outfit."

William looked down at himself, then grinned. "Well, I'm a pageboy here, so I need to dress the part. Just like Mary's maid outfit. I just have to keep remembering what it looks like, otherwise it fades. Mary says it gets easier."

Frederick looked quizzically at Demon, who smiled.

"The clothes he wears are merely a manifestation of his powers. As long as he remembers to be clothed, he is. All that he needs to do is decide exactly what the clothes should look like."

"Saves on wardrobe costs." said Mary with a smile.

"That reminds me." said Frederick slowly. "I heard that the Demondollar has become the world-preferred solid currency, even over the U.S. Dollar."

"Ah yes." said Demon, reaching into a belt-pouch and pulling out one of the gold-rimmed coins, turning it so that the jewel in the center sparkled in the sunshine. "That is because these coins, the larger denominations at least, are impossible to forge."

"Nothing is impossible to..." began Frederick, then his voice trailed off as a small image of Demon appeared above the suddenly-glowing jewel. Demon flipped the coin over and the jewel projected a second image, one of an angel.

"Magic." said Demon. "Each crystal is imbued with certain spells which slowly absorb ambient magery and use it to power these. When you touch one of the jewels as it lies flat, it projects an image of myself or of my old friend Gabrera. No technology in existence can duplicate this in a housing this small, and the spells themselves are designed to be unstable _unless_ cast in a special environment, which exists _only_ in the official mint. It requires myself, or four specially-trained mages simultaneously, to cast and hold the spells so that they infuse the gems, and background spells to hold them together are required, spells that only I know. So you see, these coins cannot be duplicated by anyone else."

"That's... amazing." admitted Frederick slowly. "How long will they remain unforgeable?"

Demon looked at the coin, then placed it back in his pocket.

"Until the outer magery level reaches at least half of that inside the Shield, no-one outside my lands will be able to cast the spells in question. My estimation is that this will be at least three centuries, more likely five. And even then, I have planned ahead and put anti-tamper mage-traps inside the spells, in case anyone tries to decipher them. One of the spells inside the coin is a scaled-down version of the famed Mage-bomb. But I never told you that."

Frederick stared up at Demon, eyes searching for any hint that he was joking, then shook his head.

"Wow. That's freaky. And scary."

"Can you think of a safer currency, knowing that?"

"I can't think of a more _dangerous_ one at the moment!"

Demon grinned and looked out at where several figures were walking slowly across the newly-secured bridge, examining it closely.

"My land is a small one, Frederick. I do not seek dominion over other realms, despite what others say. I seek to make my lands safe and profitable, so I use my skills as best as I can to do so. Think of this land as... somewhat like Switzerland. Neutral. Non-aggressive. But more than capable of defending itself against any who would seek to move against it. Although their chocolate is still better than ours. And their banks are more efficient, as they can use computers while the skiing there is apparently very good. And I think I am losing track of this metaphor."

Frederick managed to turn his laugh into a not-very-convincing cough. A moment passed, then he glanced up.

"I understand. Like Switzerland, sort of."

* * *

.

* * *

.

**Chapter Seven**

The boats crunched against the shore of the main island and the oars which had been propelling them retracted as the ramps in the bows dropped, unleashing a veritable horde of armed and armoured warriors filled with religious determination. Swords and spears waving, they flooded forwards, uncaring that they were being observed from the mountain in the center of the island.

"Angeline was right." murmured Demon from his viewpoint. "Thank goodness I had those caves prepared for such an emergency."

Marc stood beside him, watching one group of the incoming invaders through a pair of binoculars. "They look very angry, Lord Demon. Should they manage to reach the city, they could cause a great deal of damage. And should they discover the caves..."

"The Caves of Refuge are protected. Never fear." Demon said, watching as the hordes started trampling the fields. "However, it looks like we may need to import more food this year."

Marc looked up at him, then back at the incoming horde. "Why are you letting them come so far inland before stopping them?"

"Those are Iran's best, most religious warriors." said Demon, his face briefly contorting into a cold smile. "They have been trained for this, see the number of bows amongst them? The number of so-called holy relics they wear in the mistaken belief that they'll stave off magery? Their mission is to destroy this place. I can feel the waves of their fanaticism from here."

"And you are letting them inland because..?"

"Because I intend to capture them. Capture them and place bindings of magery on them, then send them back."

"Bindings of..." Marc trailed off, then gave Demon a long look before grinning. "Oh, sir. That... that is so..."

"Evil? Like many things, it depends on your viewpoint."

.

The leader of the first unit waved his scimitar in the air as he led his men towards the city of the Demon-worshipers. Although there was no sign of any of the infidels so far, he felt confident that his force could overcome anything, until he saw the two small figures walking towards the along the road. His second-in-command saw them as well and squinted for a better look.

"Children. A boy and a girl. The girl is showing her hair and legs, the boy is dressed in odd clothing."

A pang of sorrow stabbed through his heart, but the leader refused to let it show.

"If they flee, let them run. If not, kill them quickly and mercifully."

"They're laughing."

The leader glanced at his second, then looked ahead at the two figures and a sudden suspicion formed.

"Why are they laughing? Everyone halt! It's a trap!"

The unit slowed and stopped a bare hundred meters away from the two children, spears and swords bristling in all directions. The leader looked around for signs of the ambushers he knew were out there, then his gaze fastened on the approaching children. As they drew close, the girl spoke up.

"Hello. Please put your weapons down and surrender, we don't want to hurt you."

" _You_ don't want to..." repeated the second, his voice filled with shock and rage. Breaking loose from the unit, he charged forwards and thrust his sword through the girl's heart. She looked down and shook her head.

"Well, I guess we'll have to do this the _hard_ way. William?"

"Yes, Mary?"

"Let's do it. Just as we planned."

Both figures wavered, then a wave of force flung the attacker into the air. Before he hit the ground, the now-transparent boy flew forwards, bringing a hail of freezing cold with him.

.

Muhummed looked round, as his unit advanced slowly and steadily across the open grassy fields, shields and swords ready for use.

"What's that noise? Thunder?"

Muhummed glanced at the man who had spoken, then tilted his head slightly. Now that it had been pointed out to him, he could hear it, a rolling rumble that was getting louder.

"I... don't know." he said, unwillingly. "Does anyone recognize that sound?"

As if to answer his question, the noise suddenly grew louder and Muhummed's mouth went dry as a wave of centaurs charged over the brow of the rise ahead of them, their armor gleaming and the tips of their long lances sparkling in the sunlight. For a moment, he could do nothing but stare, and that moment was all it took for the lances to lower like a breaking wave as the centaurs closed in to destroy the invaders.

.

Azim pushed aside a branch, swearing under his breath. Spotting a clearing ahead, he made for it, and watched as the rest of his assigned force followed. Those few who had not gotten lost, anyway. With a sigh, he waved for his men to gather round.

"We seem to be lost." he admitted. "This forest is too dense for us to navigate, but there's a river there. It should be the one that flows through that satan-spawned city, so if we follow it upstream, we'll get there. Come on, and everyone try not to wander off."

A pair of cold eyes followed the vanishing group, then the Naga looked down at the gagged and bound soldier he had silently subdued. The man looked up at him, and the scaled Naga grinned, showing retractable fangs.

"You are a lucky one. You get to live. When they reach the river, the Merfolk and the Wolfkin will be waiting, the Wolfkin will chase them into the River, and the Merfolk will take it from there. I'd be surprised if even a dozen of your friends survive."

.

Al-Nasir held up his hand and the mob behind him stopped. Holding out his hand, he accepted the telescope and used it to scan the route ahead.

"We are expected." he noted. "I see beings that can only be elves. More of them than there are of us, maybe half again more."

He collapsed the telescope and handed it back, a frown on his face.

"They seem split between armor-wearers and robe-wearers, we have to assume that those wearing robes are skilled in their so-called magery. We don't have enough archers and our armor is less than theirs, but we cannot just retreat, since that will let them head off to attack one of the other groups."

"Then do we attack?"

"No." said Al-Nasir firmly. "We head to that hill just there, and fortify it. They will not dare leave, as it will let us attack, but the hill will give us an advantage should they attack us. Come!"

Al-Nasir confidently led the way to the hill, but his self-possession would have been shaken had he been able to see the jewels buried under the topsoil, jewels acting as anchor-points for the trap-spells which the mages had painstakingly cast specifically for this one occasion and which simply needed triggering in order to paralyze their targets.

.

The mob running towards the main entrance to the city came to a screeching halt as Demon touched down in front of the closed gate. For several moments, silence reigned, then several dozen archers loosed as one. With a negligent gesture, Demon incinerated the arrows, then another gesture caused all the bowstrings to snap. Even before the arrowheads hit the ground, Demon reached up to his shoulder and unsheathed his sword. As the two-meter blade arced through the air, leaving a trail of cold lightning in its wake, Demon stepped forwards, his eyes hard.

* * *

.

"In a startling sequence of events, the beings of Devil's Island have not just defeated, but more than _decimated_ the forces sent against them." Michelle Carter said. "As you can see behind me, the remnants of the invading Iranian armies, numbering less than a third of their original strength, have been disarmed and gathered here, under the supervision of the Island Watch and its allied organisations, organisations which include several militant monastic orders and at least three private militias."

The clockwork camera panned across the captured soldiers and their guards as she continued to speak.

"As yet, we have received no word from the Iranian leaders as to why they launched this attack, or what they intended to do if they had managed to take this land. Sources indicate that one of the primary targets of the invasion force was the supply of Magebombs, magical weapons which are a vital part of America's arsenal and which are produced in a hidden location on this isle. If this is indeed the case, then we can be thankful that the Magebombs have not fallen into the hands of an intolerant theocracy. Wait, something's happening..."

Michelle turned as the figure of Demon appeared on the edge of the valley in which the captured troops were held. He stared down at them for a moment, then started to speak, his voice magically-enhanced so that all could hear him.

"Your attack was unprovoked. Your orders reprehensible. But I shall show mercy to you, you who have survived. You will be returned to your homeland via the ships which brought you here, and which have been captured on my behalf by the United States Navy. However, you will not be returned unpunished."

Demon raised his hands and a glow started to form around them.

"I place this geass upon you all. Should you strike another, you will feel five times their pain yourself. Should you take up a weapon, agony shall strike you until you place the weapon down again. Should you lash out at a female, your seed will become sterile. And should you kill another person, you yourself shall die."

As he finished talking, the intense glow around his hands flowed out and briefly enveloped all the men in the valley before fading. Demon stared down at them for another moment, then nodded.

"You shall be returned to your ships now. Your weapons will remain here, as our trophies. The powerless relics you wrongly trusted to protect you shall be disbursed to any of the other Islamic countries that deems them worthy of interest. And know that should your leaders try again, I will not be so merciful to the next force that tries to move against me."

No-one spoke as Demon turned and strode away, then Michelle turned back to the camera, her face pale.

"As we have seen, Demon has placed spells on all the surviving soldiers, spells which mean that they can no longer _be_ soldiers. How Iran will react when it discovers this is unknown, but they will not be happy. Whether or not this violates the Geneva Convention, I do not know at this time. This is Michelle Carter, Devil's Island. And cut."

The camera stopped whirring and John placed the lens-cap on, then started to turn the crank at the side.

"We still have ten minutes film on this reel, or I can put in a new one."

"Don't bother." said Michelle quietly. "I don't think I can do much more reporting today."

John looked at her, then nodded understandingly.

"Yeah. It shook me a bit as well. What say we head back to the Sheltering Wing. You probably need a long, relaxing soak."

.

"How is he?"

Angelina closed the door quietly behind her and looked up, meeting Marc's concerned gaze.

"Not good. He's still really depressed, and I can't get through to him."

Marc's gaze settled on the door and he frowned in dismay.

"Dammit. He takes down the largest of the invading forces single-handed without getting a scratch, oversees the capture of the others, casts a spell in seconds that would take _me_ days to prepare, then as soon as the invaders are deported, he retreats to his quarters and shuts out the world. Why?"

Angelina glanced back at the door, fondness and worry warring in her gaze.

"I think it's because he _did_ do that. He doesn't want to be like the rest of his race, and what he did to protect everyone, the way he fought..."

"He was incredible!" Marc said. "The way he went through them, sending them flying through the air, smashing their weapons and countering all their attacks..."

"Killing almost half of them because they refused to retreat." Angelina interrupted. "Wounding half the survivors to the point where the healers were hard-pressed to get them stabilized. He demonstrated to almost the entire island what he could have been had he not turned against his own kin. And I think that he believes that the chains of honor, duty and compassion he uses to restrain his darker side may be weaker than he needs them to be. I know he's wrong about that, but I can't get through his depression. Not yet, anyway."

"Not yet?" Marc repeated. "One of your premonitions, I take it?

"It was not, simply common sense."

Both of them turned at the familiar voice and looked up.

"Lord Demon!"

Demon smiled down at them, but his smile was tinged with sadness.

"I am sorry for worrying you. I had to confront a part of myself I thought long buried. It was... not the easiest thing I have ever done."

"The most important things are never easy." Marc said. "May I give you my report, sire?"

"You may."

Marc nodded and glanced down at the crystal tablet he had pulled out of a pocket.

"First, the diplomatic repercussions of the invasion are settling. Ironically, your absence actually helped to smooth things faster, although our ambassadors in various countries had to do some very fast talking at times. The American service helped out, although in their case it was mainly by being quiet. Many of the other countries still look somewhat askance at our alliance, but since most of those are third-world or theocratic, it is only to be expected. One unusual bonus, though, was that Israel has now officially recognized us. Apparently the old saying 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' seems to hold true for them. As for Iran, it seems to be having a few internal problems..."

* * *

.

The Iranian ambassador paused outside the door to the main hall, then ceremoniously divested himself of his gold-hilted sword, handing it hilt-first to the werewolf standing to the left of the door. Removing a pair of daggers from his sash, he handed them to the cat-man on the right, then stepped back. Marc nodded and waved his hand, opening the door, then motioned for the ambassador to enter. Taking a deep breath, the ambassador stepped through and bowed deeply.

"Ambassador Muhammed Al'Islam, your presence is... not entirely welcome, but as long as you refrain from violence, your person will remain sansocrant."

"I thank you, Lord Demon." Muhammed said, trying not to show his fear.

"Thanks are not required." Demon replied. "You have obviously been sent with an important request from those who lead your nation. Let us dispense with the meaningless pleasantries, what is it your leaders want from me, and why do they think I should grant it?"

"Lord Demon, President Hassim has sent me to as if you can lift the spells you placed on the warriors who participated in the unauthorized attack on..."

Demon's palm slapped down hard on his chair's arm, the impact stopping Muhammed. "I personally questioned the surviving leaders of those former soldiers, using truth-geas and my skills at seeing their memories! That attack was planned at the specific request of your president, who assigned over half his personal guard to it in order to make it work! I know the truth, ambassador. Prove you know it too, or depart. Your choice."

Muhammed swallowed, then took a deep breath. "I... I... I understand, Lord Demon."

"So. Why does Hassim think I should lift the spells? Does he plan another attack, will he send me a nasty letter?"

"My president has charged me to offer his full recognition of your nation and the signing of a treaty of..."

Demon's harsh laughter filled the hall, causing Muhammed to fall silent again.

"Recognition? He has _nothing_ which he can use to do more than cause minor inconvenience to me. Why should I care about recognition by him? And a treaty? Doubtless he would break it as soon as he thought he could. The only treaty I would trust him with would be a treaty of blood-magic, which would kill him if he went against it. No, Ambassador, I will not accept that offer.  
"Return now to your leader and give him this message. The spells shall remain in force, they are tied to the very souls of those they were cast upon. I do not worry about any threat he may pose, for it is as a three-year-old attacking a full-grown and armoured man. But he has my thanks for his actions, they have strengthened the standing of my lands in the eyes of those who are important in the global community. Go now."

Muhammed bowed again and backed through the door, which silently swung shut after he had passed through.

"A bit hard on him, weren't you?"

Demon looked round to where Marc had entered through a side door, a wide grin on his face.

"The best enemy to have is one who is less intelligent than you." he said. "Hassim is a true gift, and one I intend to enjoy."

The small building at the end of the embassy arc, although still under construction, somehow managed to look almost embarrassed. A narrow footbridge led out from it to the communications spire, where a single dish was mounted.

"I can't believe He did it." Kitten said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Allowing Iran to establish an embassy here."

"A small embassy." Mary said with a wry grin. "Only a dozen of them, no weapons, limited budget, and the smallest embassy building on the arc."

"Why?" Kitten asked, turning away and starting to move towards the Gate back to the main island. "Why would He do that? Why invite some of those who tried to kill us all back onto the islands?"

"Because he needed to send a message." Marc said from behind them. "By doing this, he has told the world that he prefers to talk, rather than fight, but that when he needs to fight, he will fight without hesitation. And by giving them the smallest plot, he has effectively said that while he is willing to listen to what they say, he thinks that they are the least important country from his viewpoint."

Kitten slowly nodded, a grin spreading across her face.

"Nice…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stopped here because I'd managed all the world-building I needed to do, only to discover that I'd forgotten something very important.  
> An actual plot.  
> Without that, I couldn't really continue the story.


	7. The Final Debrief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short story which sprang fully-formed, yet could be easily used as the basis for something larger.  
> As it is so short, it is here rather than as a story in its own right.

The OverCouncil was silent as the Programmer scurried to the podium. The G'Hrackan majority were watching the actions of the representatives of the other species which had been part of their glorious Imperium for millennia…  
…until they had tried to conquer the race known as Humans.

"With the permission of the Supreme Emperor," The Scientist began nervously, "I will begin with background information which several members of this august body may not be fully aware of, just to be certain that we are all on the same hunting trail."

The Emperor waved his talons in agreement and the scientist looked down at its notepad.

"In the end, our loss boils down to the fact that we have Manufactories." It began, causing a sussuration of shock through the assembly. "Every race here was granted a Manufactory on their homeworld by Those Who Are Gone. The mountain-sized self-repairing machines which provided all of our civilisations with a steady supply of food, water and, as we learned how to interact with them, medicines and the other requirements for civilisation have always been the focal point of our races cultures.

"It was the G'Hrackan who did the impossible and managed to have their Manufactory build a Manufactory Seed. To do so, they had to store enough food and water for an entire revolution of their planet around its star. Almost half their number died of starvation, despite the rationing they instigated and the harvesting of plants to eke out their supplies, but it worked and they, alone of all the races, had the potential for _two_ Manufacturies.

"As their population recovered, they fed stone, rock, plants and their dead into both the Manufactory and its Seed to rebuild their society and turn the Seed into a full Manufactory, which they then used to create another Seed. Within a hundred orbits, they had no less than forty Manufactories, of which ten were devoted to making more Seeds.

"With multiple Manufactories, the G'Hrackan delved their mysteries and discovered that all Manufactories are connected, able to send messages to each other and be used as relays. They discovered the existence of the other races through the Manufactories on other worlds and scoured the databanks for designs for starships to take the to those worlds. Each Starship was built around a Manufactory and a Seed and would land on the other side of the world from the native Manufactory. The G'Hrackan colony would then grow, building more Manufactories, until it outnumbered the natives who were constrained by having only a single Manufactory, whereupon it would invade and seize control, subsuming that species into their own Imperium and in turn, helping them spread through the stars. This form of expansion, although slow, was both inexorable and unstoppable.

"Or so we all thought."

The scientist paused for a long moment.

"On one of the Imperium's expansions, they encountered a planet deemed to be impossible, for life had arisen on it and achieved sentience _without_ a Manufactory. Such a thing was unprecedented and posed incredible tactical problems, for rather than congregating around the source of their food and power, the native race had spread across the entire globe.

"Such a thing was almost inconceivable. They had no Manufactory, so how did they gather enough food? how did they treat their ill, dispose of their dead or communicate long distances without a Manufactory to relay?

"What we did not realise at the time was that they had no Manufactory, yet they and the world they were on _was_ a Manufactory!"

The outcries of shock echoed through the large hall and the scientist waited for them to quieten once more.

"The leader of the expedition decided to try and conquer the world, so he chose an area with few natives, one low in natural water and which had harsh weather. After all, he had a Manufactory and those who knew how to use it. By the time the natives discovered the colony, the defences would be in place and it would be growing.

"Only it did not work that way.

"The natives had communications using portions of the electromagnetic spectrum and devices which let them see their whole world. Even as the colony ship was landing, the native Humans were contacting each other and setting aside their hatreds in order to unite against us. We only have fragmentary reports, but the Manufactory had barely enough time to begin processing its first load of native resources before the Humans swept over the colony-to-be and seized the Manufactory for themselves in such a way that we assumed that it had been destroyed.

"We were wrong.

"The Humans had stories of ships that flew the stars. They had contemplated the vastness of space and had created ways to use the infinite resources.

"And we had, in our ignorance, granted them the tools they needed to do so.

"While the shut-down command did work, it left them with a Manufactory to examine and a Seed that had not yet connected to the Manufactory Grid. They were able to examine the Manufactory and build their own versions. Only pale reflections, incapable of the complexities that our Manufactories accomplish as a matter of course, but more than enough for their purposes.

"They built ships and stations in space.

"Because they built their craft in space, they were limited only by the means of propulsion and the resources they could access, not the need for streamlining and reinforcing our craft must include in order to land safely. They smaller craft could not outpace lght, but they did not need to and thus the volume we devote to those drive systems was available to them for other uses.

"And when our follow-up fleet arrived, intending to take over their world, we found them waiting for us.

"They had taken the colonists prisoner, then given them the chance to integrate into their society. None had refused and several had joined their newly-assembled Space Navy. Our follow-up fleet stood no chance and we were at war.

"The Humans routinely start their colonies with a full million people. Their first colonies now have over a thousand times that and families with ten offspring, while not the majority, are a large minority. Their young mature fast and breed fast, their soldiers have centuries of combat experience to draw upon and weapons that they can produce by the thousand or more! Their ships are larger, better armed and boast heavier armor than ours. ours faster-than-light ships are still slightly faster than theirs, but their parasite sublight warships dance around our craft and rip them to shreds.

"Our best tacticians, historians and psychologists have studied the threat we face and they have only one solution.

"We have been doomed by our Manufactories and our reliance on them.

"We lack the time to adapt as our Inner Colonies are already starting to fall.

"We cannot win.

"There is only one chance left for us to survive.

"We must do what those of the colonies the Humans have captured have done and ask to join the Human Republic.

"There is no other way."


	8. Superhero Story Setup

**Prologue**

"…and _there_!" The silver-masked man cackled as he slotted the final board into place, then he closed the maintenance panel of the machine that he had been working from. Stepping back, he looked round at the array of sensors, energy projectors and other, less identifiable technology that was arranged round a rather incongruous leather recliner.

Pausing only long enough to wipe the worst of the grease from his hands off on his formerly-pristine lab coat, the man scurried across to where an array of screens was set up. Tapping at the keyboard set in front of them, he leaned closer to one of the screens.

"Hah. Stupid heroes fell for it, they're heading for my main base. By the time they figure out where I _really_ am, I'll have finished and be elsewhere, in a place where there are _no_ Superheroes, metahumans, aliens or any other beings who can offset my intelligence with their _brute strength_ and ignorance!"

A quick command typed into the keyboard caused the interior of the converted warehouse to darken as shutters slid silently across the high windows and skylights, then glowing panels brought the ambient back up to comfortable levels once more.

"In the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king!" He cackled as he watched several displays level off even as a low thrumming filled the warehouse. "All the risks I took… the robberies I had to commit… using those _Might Is Right_ idiots to cover me collecting the things I needed… all so I can do what all those other mindless fools dreamed of and conquer a world to rule as I see fit…"

As his monologue turned into a bout of crazed laughter, he moved to the chair. Pausing long enough to shed his coat, mask and the long, white-haired wig attached to it so that all which remained was a black jumpsuit and matching boots, he sat in the chair and pulled the side lever so that it tilted back, stopping at the point where his head was at the focal point of the technological device.

"And goodbye old world, hello new world!" He grinned, sliding his finger to the button that had been crudely mounted on the left armrest. "Let the dimensional switch _begin!_ "

His finger stabbed the button and several bands of energy fixed him in place before the energy emitters began glowing, starting with dim red lights and quickly rising to bright blue glows that seemed to puddle around the tips before a bright flash of light seared shadows onto the wall.

}={X}={

He blinked and found himself looking at a man catching a small child that had been thrown towards the side of the road while a woman screamed. A quick sniff caught the scent of cheap alcohol on his breath, then he heard the squealing of rubber. Turning, he saw a lorry about to hit him at a speed far too great for him to be able to dodge.

"Oh shi-

* * *

.

**Chapter One  
** **or Where The Hell Am I?**

The pain was gone.

That was the first thing that I noticed as I woke up.

I know, I know. It sounds trite, but that's because you have probably never had to deal with the feeling of cancer gnawing its way through your organs. Oh, the National Health Service did its best, but by the time they diagnosed it, it had spread too far.

Of course, it didn't help that I was in the middle of a divorce. My wife had decided that I was too boring and had decided to abscond with her childhood boyfriend and all of our money. All I can really say about that is thank goodness we hadn't got round to having any children yet.

Her selling the house was a bit much, though.

Stretching, I sat up and opened my eyes.

Huh.

Wherever I was, it was dark. Very dark. As in it didn't matter if my eyes were open or closed dark.

Either that or I was blind… no. There was a slight glow, a line of light.

A door.

Clambering out of the chair I was in, I paused as the second fact registered.

I didn't have a hangover.

Yeah, I'd been drinking a _lot_ recently. Can you blame me? Forced out of my house because my wife was divorcing me and I was dying… when you know that you are going to die soon, it affects you. Sometimes it focuses your mind, other times it makes you give in to despair.

In my case, it was denial.

Not that it really mattered now.

Reaching the door, I felt around, eventually finding the lock at about chest height. Although the shape of the handle was odd, it was familiar enough that I could push it open, flinching away from the sudden wall of light that tried to stab my eyes.

Blinking furiously as I tried to force my eyes to adjust quicker, I turned my back to the outside world and squinted at the place where I had woken up. The light streaming around me illuminated what looked like a cross between a piece of modern art and a torture chamber used by the Spanish Inquisition, with several exhibits from Computers Through The Ages thrown in for good measure.

On the plus side, I also spotted what seemed to be a light switch just next to the door.

With my eyes thankfully no longer sending stabs of pain through my head, I slowly turned round to try and figure out where I was.

And I froze.

It wasn't the skyscapers that made me question my sanity. While there were far more than I expected, reaching high in spires and towers of steel and glass, it wasn't entirely unprecedented. After all, I had seen many pictures of American cities and their skyscrapers.

On a similar vein, the vehicles were not all that unexpected at first glance. They were more streamlined than normal, but they still had wheels that they used to move, albeit incredibly quietly.

No, what caught my attention was the six spandex-clad figures flying in the air, one using wings, two using jetpacks, one standing on a glowing transparent disk or something like that and the other two just… flying.

And they were shooting things at each other or trying to get close enough in to go hand to hand.

"Screw this."

I closed the door, then reached out and flicked the switch, hoping that it would turn on the lights.

It did.

Okay. Time to get some answers. Maybe the owner of this place was still around somewhere?

.

I lost track of how long I searched, but at the end, I still had more questions than answers.

The first thing I found (fortunately) was a kitchen area set in a ground-floor container that had been severely modified with the removal of one entire side, but that in itself brought up even more questions. None of the labels were in English, yet I still somehow understood them. The names were different, yet I knew what they were. The container marked Roastbeans was coffee while Leafbrew was tea. Other things were slightly less precise, but I somehow knew _what_ they were.

A good hot cup of Roastbean in my hand (black, no sugar), I continued my exploration of the area. The other three ground-level containers (arranged in a U-shape ) were what seemed to be a monitoring room of some sort (based on the sheer number of television screens mounted on the walls), a room that bore a quite incredible resemblance to a surgical theater with a few extra beds and what seemed to be a workroom with several bits of tech visible through the giant window. I carefully didn't enter the latter as I had no way of knowing what alarms may have been set.

The large button at the back of the open area between the containers that was marked _Self Destruct_ didn't help reassure me.

A set of stairs led up to the next floor which was again four more containers in a U shape, but the floor itself was translucent, as was the floor above. This level had two sets of restrooms set above the kitchen and from the colors of the edging, I deduced that the one closest to the railing was for men and the other for women. Opposite them was a container with a pair of large windows showing that it was a self-contained apartment in its own right.

I made a mental note to explore it more thoroughly after since it had to be the place where the person in charge lived.

The other two containers turned out to be barracks rooms, containing six sets of unused bunk beds and a number of lockers, all of which were open to reveal that they were empty

The third and final level was much the same, although the barracks had more bunks and less locker space. The side apartment had been replaced by an open-fronted room with a large television and what looked like audio-visual equipment as well as a couple of computers against one wall. The computers themselves looked odd and it wasn't until I took a closer look that I realized why. Not only were the screen ratios not what I was used to (being one/two rather than three/four or nine/sixteen) but the keyboards underneath had their buttons set in a grid-pattern rather than the slightly-offset lines of normal computers.

This was either a hidden camera show, or something had happened that had sent me to another world… another _reality_.

One that had diverged quite a while ago.

Returning to ground level, I put my now-empty cup into the sink and carefully pulled the recliner out from the middle of whatever that device had been and sat in it so that I could think.

Assuming that I hadn't dropped into a coma and was hallucinating, I had to be in another world.

Somehow, I had arrived wearing a black jumpsuit instead of my jeans and torn T-shirt.

Whatever had happened, I hoped that the small child I had tried to save had survived.

Looking round again, I saw a pile of white fabric that looked like a coat of some sort, puddled next to a long white wig and silver mask designed to cover everything but the mouth.

Getting out of the chair, I walked over to the mask and picked it up, noting that the wig was actually part of it. Looking at it, I dropped it onto the floor in shock.

I had finally seen my reflection.

What the hell had happened to my hair?

.

The mirror in the restroom not only failed to answer my question, it gave me several more. The man in the mirror was a stranger. His cheekbones were visible whereas mine had not been, his eyes were a bright blue which contrasted with his short black hair cut almost in a military fashion.

I noted with a sense of disappointed relief that at least the new me didn't have a heroically cleft chin, or even an over-sized one.

Pulling off my new jumpsuit, I checked my body, failing to find any of the scars I had gained over the years. Even my appendix scar was gone… or whoever had owned this body before me hadn't had to have it removed.

On the plus side, I no longer needed glasses.

Carefully pulling the jumpsuit back on, I contemplated my situation. I was on a world that I had no clue about, in a body that wasn't technically mine, facing a culture that had superheroes with all of the changes that such things would cause.

Okay, I was screwed.

Maybe the previous owner had left a users manual?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was meant as the start of a Superhero story, but I had no real plotline that hasn't been done a thousand times already, nor am I all that good at keeping track of the worldbuilding needed.  
> Therefore, this setup is available for anyone to use as a springboard for their own stories.


End file.
